Seeing Double
by Diana Le Defonceur
Summary: NEW UPDATE! CHAPTER 23! Harry begins to see his Doppleganger while at Hogwarts. What is it, and why is it haunting him? (PG-13 for Language, Violence, and some minty-fresh angsty goodness...Y'all didn't believe me at first, didja?)
1. Me, Myself, and I

Hey, y'all, it's my first fic. 

Pity me.

Since this is said first fic, these are my first author's notes. Joy! All I ask is that you ignore the lame title and chapter headings (okay, maybe they're not so lame, but maybe I don't like them because an _artiste_ is never satisfied with her work…yeah, that's it), and if you MiSTie me, please, please, let me know. Not because you're asked to, not because you feel compelled to by the power of cheese (mmm…lactosey), but because I really, really wanna read it if you do. See, I try to write with a MiSTie in my mind, criticizing all my sentences for me as I type them. I just want to see if you can do better :] So, enjoy the story, remember the Cardinal Rule that "(Positive) Feedback = (More) Chapters," and awaayyy we go!

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Disclaimers: All characters below aren't mine, they belong to J.K. Rowling, who is only one of the many Goddesses I worship, and some other people who paid her money to say they are also theirs. I only have a dollar left, 'cause my college took it all. What will a dollar buy me? A molted feather from Hedwig? A wand from the prized 'stick' tree? The invisibility cloak? Sold! (Cha-ching!) Hey, wait, there's nothing there…

Chapter 1: Me, Myself, and I

He thought he had seen it all.

Within the past five years, Harry had been witness to many a fantastic thing at Hogwarts. Not only was the sight of mere teenagers like himself commanding the magick of the ancients with a _stick_ a daily occurrence, but also paintings whose subjects chatted, ranted, or fought with any student who came too close to their canvases. He and his classmates had also seen humans transfigure themselves into a variety of beasties and back again in the time it took for one to take a breath, as well as plates and dishes which could fill to the brim with a cornucopia of delights with a _flick_ of a wand. 

Never, however, in his short but extraordinary life had he seen _himself_ walking across school grounds. 

It wasn't simply someone who resembled him, but a living, breathing, carbon-copy replica of _himself_. All in all, he found the experience to be quite…upsetting. It had began as a relatively clear day, only the second week into the fall semester. Harry had been walking across the courtyard with Ron and Hermione towards the Dungeon for Potions class when _it_ clipped his right shoulder, knocking his books to the ground. Harry threw an angry look over his shoulder at the offending student, muttering "run into me, why don't ya, you blind git." No sooner had the words left his mouth when the other student turned around. 

Harry had seen his reflection in the mirror countless times, but it never blinked when he didn't, or vice versa. This was definitely something else. His eyes grew round as the other student turned his gaze upon Harry. It was _himself_, though with cold, emotionless eyes producing a blank and deadened stare. And, right above that, was the Scar.

Harry blinked, and the other student turned and hurried off once more. _What the bloody hell…?_

"Oy, Harry! I think you dropped something!" Harry turned around to face Ron, who nodded at the books scattered at Harry's feet. Hermione smacked Ron lightly on the arm. "Ron!" The ginger-headed boy threw his hands up protectively. "What? I was gonna help," he laughed. "Besides, I wouldn't let my best friend bend _allll_ the way down there to pick his books up _alone_, now would I? He might cut himself on that long, sharp blade of grass there and end up in Pomfrey's care for another year. Right, mate?" Ron asked, looking up at Harry. His friend only blinked, still shaken by his encounter.

"Mate? That wanker say something to you--?" 

"You saw him?" Harry asked excitedly in a hushed voice. Ron nodded. "Oh, I saw him alright, and IF THAT GIT'S GOT SOMETHING TO SAY TO YOU, THEN HE'D BETTER NOT SAY IT IN FRONT OF ME, 'CAUSE I'LL TEAR--" Ron continued to yell in the direction of the long gone student until Hermione hushed him. "RON! Really now, everyone already thinks you're crazy." She turned and began to walk in the direction of the Dungeon once more. 

"Crazy?! Who thinks I'm crazy? Have you been talking to George, or did Fred say something? I bet it was Malfoy, that sneaky little bastard--" "I have to stop by the Ladies' Room before class," Hermione called over her shoulder, smiling as she silenced Ron's tirade once more, "I trust you boys won't get lost without me to hold your hands?" She smiled, then nodded. "Good." With that, she hurried off. 

Ron shook his head as he and Harry bent to recover the fallen books. "'Ladies' Room' my arse, she just wants to get the seat up front. Call _me_ crazy, will she? I bet _she's_ got a thing for Snape, don't you think so, Harry?" Ron looked at his friend as they both stood up together, puzzled by the look of fear which briefly flitted across the other boy's eyes. Ron softened his voice so that only Harry could hear him. 

"Harry, you alright? Who was that?"

Harry stuttered as he answered Ron. "Uhm…me…may, um, maybe we oughta get to class, after all." _Damn it._ He managed a small smile in spite of his cowardice. "Besides, I swear Snape's getting worse every year. Not that being late is going to help him hate me any less." Ron sighed. "Yeah, you're right about that. Who knows, maybe having Hermione sitting up there that close to him will soften the bugger up a bit." The boys continued chuckling as they hurried to class, although Harry's eyes were constantly scanning their path for a glimpse of his other self.


	2. They Pull the Legs Off of Frogs, Don't T...

It's….Chapter 2! Which comes after…Chapter 1! Not much else to say here…so, I won't. Say. Anything else, that is. Unless of course…no, nevermind. It must not be spoken so!!! ~8] (Hey, it's Harry! Sorta…).

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For Disclaimers, See Chapter 1. Thus Spake the Authoress.

Chapter 2: They Pull the Legs Off of Frogs, Don't They? 

Dumbledore had postponed the teaching of DADA classes for the fall and possibly spring semesters until a suitable and well-trained professional could be found. Harry and his classmates were saddened to hear that Lupin turned down the position again, as he felt he was too much of a risk to the students, but were in turn overjoyed that Snape had not been offered the job even after practically begging the Headmaster for it. His bitterness as a result of that particular event, however, had been manifesting itself more and moreso during each Potions class.

Today had been no exception.

"NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!! IF YOU DON'T CUT OFF THOSE BLASTED FROG'S LEGS AND PUT THEM IN THE BLOODY CAULDRON BEFORE IT GETS AWAY, THEN YOURS WILL BE USED _INSTEAD!_"

Cutting anything off of animals for ingredients was horrible enough when they had been lying rotting in jars for years, but it was even worse to try and do so when they were still _alive_. 

"B-but, Professor Snape, he's…he's so…"

"He's so _WHAT_? ALIVE?" Snape growled, "Because we've already well established _that_ point, over an HOUR AGO." 

An audible gulp was heard within the Dungeon as Neville swallowed hard. "But, he's…he's so…cute…"

Malfoy was the loudest of all the Slytherins when they began to roar with cackling laughter. The sound reverberated deafeningly against the Dungeon walls, and Harry might have realized that was one of the reasons why Snape had outlawed laughter in his classroom--that is, if he had been paying attention. The rising laughter fell deaf upon his ears as he sat in the back row next to Ron, deep in anguished thought.

He knew Ron had been throwing side glances at him ever since they arrived in class, and had all but puppeteered Harry's hands through their current potion exercise when Snape wasn't looking. While the enraged teacher was currently consumed with subtracting points from _every_ house, Ron leaned in close to Harry.

"What's _wrong_, Harry? Usually I'm the one sitting there with a dumb look on my face." He smiled a bit to show Harry he was joking, but if Harry acknowledged the grin, he wasn't showing it. "Ron, that person who bumped into me today…wasn't another person." Ron raised his right eyebrow as far as it would go. "_What_? That doesn't make a bit of bloody sense, mate." Harry nodded impatiently. "I know it doesn't, but you have to listen to me, and tell no one but Hermione that I told you this."

It was Ron's turn to nod anxiously. "Alright, I promise! Who was it?"

The same look of fear which had earlier flitted across his friend's eyes manifested itself again, as Harry spoke in a hushed whisper. "It was _me_."

Ron's jaw dropped in confusion. "_YOU--_?" Harry's friend was too late in clamping his own hand down on his mouth at his sudden outburst, especially since the class had finally quieted down moments before. "Oh, shit…" he managed in a tiny whisper.

"_WEASLEY!! POTTER!!_ _50 POINTS_ FROM GRYFFINDOR! _APIECE!_" Just when everyone thought that Snape might actually explode, he sat motionless and addressed the class in the calmest, quietest voice any of them had ever heard him use.

Which only made him _that_ much scarier.

"Students. Pack up your bloody things, and get out of my classroom. Now."

One would think that 'FIRE!' had been yelled the way the students assailed the Dungeon's doors, jockeying for first position at the front of the line. For the first time that morning Harry was focused on something besides his other self, quickly uttering a cleaning spell to his wand which helped to cleanse his cauldron of its frog leg and bat wing contents. Hermione was already waiting for the boys when they bolted out of the Potions classroom. Together, they ran with the other students quickly up the stairs. Very, very, quickly.

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All right, I know it wasn't much, but I've a Photo assignment due in two days…GAAHHH!!! Shudder Any updates will probably be done Saturday/Sunday or so, or earlier if I feel like slacking off on homework for a day or--uh, No, No, Mom and Dad, I didn't say that! Not at all…heh heh…huhn…Thanks for reading, and please, review! I promise this is going somewhere, that there will be NO MARY SUES OR GARY STUS, and no stupid-ass ending, either, I promise…~8]


	3. Snake Repellent

Hey! It's Chapter 3! Schwing Schwing Schwing! Oh, and if anyone really cares, this takes place after GOF. Schwing!

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Disclaimers: See Chapter 2. ~8]

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Chapter 3: Snake Repellent

Once the students were out of the Dungeon, the trio felt it was safe to speak to each other again.

"You know, its too bad they don't hand us a new Potions teacher as often as they gave us a new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor," Hermione quipped.

Ron sighed. "You got that right, Hermione. If you ask me, I think Snape needs a vacation from his own greasy and bitter self for a while. A _looong_ while. Preferably at St. Mungo's…"

"Not only that," Hermione continued, "but I was reading that in the Middle Ages, Witches and Wizards never even _used_ such disgusting things like those Snape's got us brewing to make potions. It was all done with herbs, and such. I wonder when they began to use animals and the like?"

Ron cocked his head in thought. "Somewhere, somewhen, a ball of slime learned to walk, talk, and teach, and thus began the Snape Family Tree, with rotting bark, infestations, and I hear it goes _straight_ up, if you know what I mean…"

"Not unlike _yours_, Weasel." 

Ron and Harry saw Hermione roll her eyes at the sound of Malfoy's snide remark. The boys looked over their shoulders to encounter Malfoy flanked by the Slytherins from the Potions class. Draco took a step forward, asserting himself as the 'gang leader,' as if it wasn't already known.

"That was quite a show Neville gave us, wasn't it, Potter? But, then again, you were too busy Frenching Weasel here in the back row to notice, now weren't you?"

"Shove off, Draco," Hermione interjected, without any attempt to conceal her disgust. She had grown quite brave in standing up to the little blonde bastard ever since she popped him one across the face. That had felt _good_, and she was quite sure she was capable of doing it again.

"I wasn't _talking_ to you, Mudblood, this is between me and the boys here. Besides, I want to ask them a question." Ignoring the heated faces of both Harry and Ron, whose cheeks burned red at the mere mention of the _M_-word, Malfoy slithered even closer to the pair. "We were just wondering, my fellow Slytherins and I, what an interesting exclamation 'You' is. Now what question could have prompted Weasel here to utter such a word as 'You'?" He turned to his pack. "Any ideas, guys?" 

Crabbe was the first to speak up. "'Guess who gave a hand-job to Snape?'" "_'You!_'" the Slytherins yelled back.

"'Who do you love the most, Ron?'" yelled Goyle. "_'You!_'" 

"'Who hasn't got any parents and is the most pathetic fucking loser in the world?'" screamed Pansy. "_'You!!_'" the Slytherins shrieked with laughter. Draco didn't even have time to come up with another retort when Ron surged forward suddenly, roughly jerking Malfoy by the robes so that they were nose to nose. He had learned something from Snape that day. If you want to scare your enemies shitless, do so as calmly as possible.

"I'm only going to tell you this once, Malfoy," he began, more evenly and steadily than he ever thought possible, "if you ever, and I mean _ever_ talk the way you just did about Harry's, Hermione's, or my family ever again in front of _anybody_ else other than your own reflection, so help me Gods I'll hunt you down and rip you a new one, you bloody prick-nosed bastard." When Ron finished speaking he quietly released the other boy, then turned and walked away in the opposing direction. Harry could plainly see how this had ruffled Malfoy, who in response merely tugged hard at his robes to straighten them. At a loss for words, he simply glared at Harry until he and Hermione turned to follow Ron. Harry could hear the retreating footsteps behind him of the Slytherins going down the stairs in silence.

* * * * * * * * * *

When the trio reached the portrait of the Fat Lady outside the Gryffindor Common Room, Hermione finally let out what she'd been holding in ever since Malfoy and his band had slithered away. "Oh, Ron!" she shrieked, "that was wonderful! You should have seen his face after you'd left! Oh, what I wouldn't give for a picture!" Harry nodded enthusiastically as well. "Yeah, Ron, you were _great_! I've never seen Draco so pissed before! He's had it coming for years now." 

Ron, however, wasn't exactly joining in on the festivities. "I'm a dead man, aren't I?" he questioned dejectedly, until Harry came around and tugged an arm around Ron's shoulder. "Cheer up, mate, girls love this sort of thing. They'll be all over you now. And think how proud Fred, George, and Ginny'll be of you! Granted they don't tell your parents, that is." Ron smiled broadly at the thought. "Yeah, guys, you're right. I _was_ pretty damned good, wasn't I?" 

"You really were, Ron," Hermione chimed in again. "But one question though: why _did_ you yell out '_YOU_' in class?" 

Harry had almost, _almost_ been able to forget what he had seen earlier that day. Now, however, the initial surge of panic he had originally felt returned full force with the realization of what had passed. 

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Okay, this we'll call an 'interlude' of sorts. Not many more, I promise. Hopefully this'll keep Malfoy away for the time being as we get to the deeper root of the problem, which is stated so very nicely in the summary ~8] I'll try to post two chapters at a time or at least one which is related to the core of the story before I leave you in a nice cliffhanger-like fashion. Much like I'm doing……now………………………………………………………………………… ~8]


	4. Every Step I Take, I'll Be Watching You....

Holy Crap. I'm getting reviews. And good ones. THANKS, GUYS! EEEKK!!! Wow…I think I've become drunk with power…I…must…WRITE! hic! ~8]

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For Disclaimers, see Chapter 3. Oh, and The Police and said properties aren't mine, and neither is Hugh Jackman…not that he appears, I'm just making a statement. A very…very sad statement…sniff sniff 

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Chapter 4: Every Step I Take, I'll Be Watching You…

When Harry didn't answer for some time, lost in thought, Hermione leaned in closer to him.

"Harry," she asked softly, "what's going on?"

He began hesitantly. "You remember that student today, the one who nearly bowled me over?" Hermione nodded. "Right, the one Ron threatened to beat up." She side-glanced the other boy. "Say, that's two in one day. Quite a streak you've got going there, Ron," she smiled. Ron blushed lightly, then nodded at Harry to continue.

"Well, I looked over my shoulder to see who it was, and…" He closed his eyes as he paused, shaking his head slightly in disbelief, "…and it was _me_." Slowly opening his eyes, he scanned the faces of his bemused friends. "Are you certain?" asked Hermione. Harry nodded his head vigorously. "I'm _positive_. He had the same robes as me, the same books, the same glasses," he pointed to his forehead, "and the same _scar_." 

By now Ron was wide-eyed with incredulity. "Good Gods, Harry, you've gotta tell someone about this. Sirius, Dumbledore, _anyone_." Harry shook his head. "_No_, Ron. No one else but us is to know about this for now. It was a one time occurrence, nothing more. Besides, it'll only worry Dumbledore, and I don't want to compromise Sirius' position in any way while he gets things sorted out and finalized with the Ministry. For all we know, someone could have just taken a Polyjuice potion in my honor, or Glamour themselves to look like me." 

Hermione was the first to object.

"Harry, we've been your friends long enough to know that nothing is simply a 'one time occurrence' where you're concerned. I'll do some research in the library later on, and if I don't find anything, then we're all going straight to Dumble--" "_Please, _Hermione. Everyone thinks that I'm a right fruity nutter as it is. Let's just sit this one out for awhile, alright?" Ron and Hermione nodded their heads dejectedly, but firmly. "Alright, Harry, we promise. And speaking of later on," Ron paused, listening to the distant sounds of a chattering crowd, "do you realize that we've only got five minutes to get to Transfiguration?"

* * * * * *

After hauling themselves to Transfiguration (where Draco and a few Slytherins were surprising no shows) and the rest of their classes, Harry, Ron, and Hermione finally had time to contemplate Harry's dilemma during the nightly dinner banquet. Their preoccupation prevented them from seeing the obscene gestures being thrown in their direction by the oddly subdued lot of Slytherins nearest the Gryffindors. Had they taken the time to look they would have noticed that Draco's presence was, once again, absent. 

Brow furrowed, Harry absently poked at the lone grape occupying his plate with a fork, clanking the metal prongs against the china every so often when he missed. Ron simply stared at a spot on the table as he thought hard, chewing his food ever so slowly. An idea suddenly struck Hermione, however, whose eyes brightened at the dawning realization. She leaned into the table, startling her friends.

"Guys! I've just thought of something. Meet in the library in about twenty minutes or so, alright?" Harry looked at her quizzically as she got up from the table and hurriedly shoved her chair in. "Why twenty minutes?" Ron asked. He only saw Hermione smile slightly before feeling two hands clamp down on his shoulders, shaking him roughly.

"Ron!" 

"You crazy git!"

"How dare you not get us ringside tickets to the main event?"

"_Really_, Ron, you'd think _we'd_ have been invited, of all people."

Harry saw a huge grin light up Ron's face as he spun around to greet the three beaming Weasleys.

"Ginny, Fred, George! How did you find out?"

George scoffed. "What, are you kidding me? We're not telling _you_. _We've_ got our sources' names to protect--_Ow!_" He rubbed his arm where Ginny had smacked him. "Goof. _I_ overheard Pansy telling another Slytherin girl last class how 'that red-headed bastard who's always hanging around with that Potter nutter' had told Malfoy he was going to 'rip him a new one,' whatever that means." She paused as George and Fred snickered. Rolling her eyes, she continued. "Anyway, I figured that the 'red-headed bastard' had to be one of _you_ three, but Ron's the only one _stupid_ enough to actually go through with such a thing."

Fred cried out. "That is an _outrage_! How _dare_ you doubt our stupidity!?" He pretended to shove Ginny away as he grabbed the chair closest to Ron. "Well, enough of that _silly _girl, tell us what _really_ happened." Faces alight, they listened intently as Ron recounted his tale of going head-to-head with Malfoy. Harry had begun to listen in, curious as to how Ron would choose to present himself, when he felt the urge to look across the room. He wasn't quite sure why his eyes had been drawn to the entranceway of the Great Hall, until he saw it, peeking out from behind the shadows. 

His Other Self.

Harry gasped in trepidation at the sight of the otherworldly _thing_ staring back at him. He shot out of his seat quickly, nearly knocking it back onto the floor. 

"Harry?" Ron cautioned, pausing from his tale. Harry then noticed that the Weasleys were all staring at him questioningly. "Hermione," he lied with a smile, "I forgot she was waiting for us in the library." Ron nodded. "Right, then. I'll catch up with you later?" "Yeah, I'd better find her before she gets…lost…or something…" Ron simply shrugged at his friend's momentary lapse and continued on with his narrative. "So then _I_ says to Malfoy…"

Harry fought the urge to _run_ to the Hall's entranceway, lest he draw more than the usual number of stares he was accustomed to, especially from the Slytherins. Though he had his head tilted down a bit in a casual manner, his eyes stared straight into those of his twin image. It remained unmoving in the shadows even as Harry drew closer to it. When at the table, Harry had nonchalantly slid his wand up his right sleeve, now at the ready if it was needed. With less than five feet now closing the distance between them, Harry's breathing became even more rapid than his pace. 

The Other, however, quickly turned heel and sprinted off into the darkness.

Before Harry could even grasp onto his wand to halt the fleeting figure, two large shadows merged into one on the floor in front of him. The young wizard slowly turned his head, realizing now why the thing had suddenly bolted. Although he and Ron had been preoccupied, his twin self was attentive enough to notice that Crabbe and Goyle had gotten up from their table, followed Harry, and were now standing directly behind him.

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Alright, if you've noticed, I write 'em short. Not that I want to, but my clock says I have to. _Evil_ clock, I say, _Evviillll_…anyhoo, off to Chapter 5! Woo-hoo! 


	5. Disappearing Act

Me? Evil? _Ha!_ You don't know the half of it! Well, I suppose you do by now, with my tendency towards shorty-story cliffhangers and the like. But, you get the gist.

Ah, and I see that I've got some questions…very, very good questions…wonder what the answers are? Mwua-ha-ha! Never fear, dear readers, all questions will be answered soon enough. I will tell you this, however: Harry's double is _not_ from the future. Or the past. And he's _not_ his long-lost twin, or anything like that. Things that make you go _hmm…_

As for the second guess, who knows? Besides me, of course, and I'm not telling. [Insert repetitive evil laugh]. And where is Draco, you ask? Well, I'll give you a hint: only three people know the answer to that. Tee hee hee…I _will_ try to make the chapters longer, however. I didn't realize how short they were until I posted them. Who knew that four hours worth of work was only a screen and half long? (Yes, yes, I'm S…L…O…W…) A travesty, I tell you, a travesty…Thanks for reviewing, and sorry for the belated posting of the chapter!!! ~8]

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Disclaimers: Do Not Tear Mattress Tag…oh, wait…uh, see Chapter 4…

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Chapter 5: Disappearing Act

Harry barely had time to flinch before Goyle belted a beefy fist across his face. He cried out in surprise, the impact knocking him sprawling onto his side. In his confusion, Harry's grip had loosened on the wand concealed in his hand, sending it skittering across the floor. Harry lunged for it. He let out a shrill cry when Goyle quickly crunched his foot down onto Harry's outstretched hand. Crabbe then stooped down and picked the wand up, flinging it away with all his might. 

Harry lay on his back, protectively covering his battered hand from any further injury. Crabbe knelt down and straddled himself across Harry's stomach, circling his massive hands around the boy's neck. Harry gasped at the sudden pressure around his throat, gagging when Crabbe lightly pushed his thumbs into his adam's apple. 

"Where's he, you bloody wanker?" Goyle demanded.

"Who?" Harry gasped.

Crabbe pressed his thumbs in even deeper, smiling when this elicited a strangled cry from Harry. Harry whimpered slightly, certain the behemoth was going to asphyxiate him before he even knew what the hell was going on. 

"'_Who?' _Draco, you _stupid_ prick. What'd you do with 'im?" Harry blinked his lashes free of the tears pooling in his eyes. "What…are you…talking about--'" He gagged quite loudly as Crabbe shoved his thumbs all the way into his throat, causing tiny black spots to float in Harry's line of vision. Strangled gasps escaped from his mouth as he labored to breathe. _Where they really trying to kill him?_

Crabbe finally released his hands from around Harry's neck. Promptly Harry began to suck in much needed air, though Crabbe's crushing weight still rested atop him. 

"One more time, Potter," Crabbe snarled, "where's Draco?" Now able to speak freely, Harry in turn questioned them. "How should _I_ know where that little shit ran off to? I wasn't the last person to see him," he asserted angrily. "No, but that Weasel bastard threatened him," Crabbe began. "And as far as we're concerned," Goyle continued, "you Gryffindor gits all look the same, anyways. Except _you_," he spat, "with that bloody _scar_ on your damned forehead."

Crabbe finished. "What we're trying to say is: you, him, doesn't matter to us, as long as _one_ of you gets it. No one insults a Slytherin like that without getting like in return." He chuckled along with Goyle, then pushed himself off of Harry. "Tell that little Weasel he can look forward to _this_ the next time we see 'im." The two hoodlums then began to liberally kick Harry about the torso, occasionally striking his stomach and face.

"…stop it…_please_…" Tears streamed down Harry's face as he fought to deflect the blows assailing him from all sides. Crabbe viciously kicked him squarely in the crotch, leaving the boy to wail in agony. Harry received a final punt to the back of his head before Crabbe and Goyle stalked off to harass someone else. 

Harry carefully wrapped his arms around himself, attempting to stifle the muscle spasms twinging throughout his body. Slow, shallow breaths helped to calm his anguished sobs from jarring his body even more. Certain the two swollen oafs had gone, Harry slowly raised himself up onto his side, and began to scan the dark hallway for his wand. He had no sooner turned himself around when he saw his accursed twin standing not more than five feet from him. 

It simply stood there staring at him, its penetrating gaze chilling Harry to the very core. The young wizard's breath hitched in his throat, frightened by the very presence of his Other. His heart quickened in pace the longer _it_ remained there, until Harry thought the beating of his heart might very well deafen his ears. He then slowly opened his quivering mouth, desperate to form words. "Wha--what do you…want…?" 

Harry's other self said nothing. It instead spread the most malicious grin the young man had ever seen across its face. Harry shook with unbridled fear until he felt his eyes slip back into his head, and his head onto the ground. 

After that, Harry was quiet.

* * * * * *

The first thing Harry noted upon waking was the incessant chattering emanating from the Dining Hall. This meant the students were still eating, so he hadn't been out long. Otherwise, someone surely would have noticed him lying sprawled across the floor. He opened his eyes, blinking them into focus. As he sat up slowly, Harry checked his surroundings to make certain of no more unpleasant appearances by his double. Convinced that he was alone, he stood up and took a few stumbling steps towards the nearest staircase, at the end of the short corridor. Harry nearly fell once more when his foot rolled atop something smooth. Regaining his footing, he bent down and latched a firm grasp around the object. 

It was his wand. 

Harry kissed it with relief and grinned slightly; the soreness of his cheek prevented anything greater than that. He slid it back into its rightful place within his robes and hurried up the staircase the best he could, hoping that Ron and Hermione hadn't left the library without him. 

* * * * * *

Although the library was generally reserved to be a sanctuary of knowledge and silence, its lone occupants were doing their best to disregard the latter of its tenets. 

"But that doesn't make a lick of sense, Hermione--!"

"No, Ron, it makes _perfect _sense. You see, right here it details--"

"No! I mean, yes, I've seen it, over and over again, but _why_ is _it_ here?"

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not? These things don't have a reason for appearing, they just do. It's says so _right_ here in the book--"

"Agh, the book! Enough with the book, Hermione," Ron exclaimed in disgust. "I'm just not yet sold on the idea, that's all." Hermione moved to close the tome in frustration when Harry entered from her right, looking a good deal worse than they had left him.

"And what idea would that be?" His friends gaped in shock at his appearance. Hermione was the first to hurriedly skid her chair back and rush to Harry's side, who looked quite ready to collapse at any moment. She gently pushed him into her chair and knelt down, brushing the hair away from his bruised face so that she could have a better look. Ron squatted on his other side, grasping hold of his best friend's shoulder firmly, who looked to be in a bit of a daze. "Harry?" asked Hermione in a hushed voice, "who did this to you?" Harry perused his classmates' worried expressions before continuing. "Crabbe," he replied in a subdued manner, "and Goyle. They wanted to know where Draco was."

"Malfoy? Are they sure he didn't flush himself down the loo or something?" Hermione shot Ron an exasperated look as Harry continued. "They had been looking for you, Ron, but ran into me first. It didn't matter who 'got it,' because we 'Gryffindor gits' all look the same to them, anyway." Harry glanced at Ron, who looked utterly crestfallen. Ron closed his eyes for a moment, then looked back at Harry. "Gods, Harry…they did this to you because of _me_," he paused, shaking his head slowly, "I'm so sorry. I never meant for anything like this to happen." Harry turned to him angrily. "Ron, I'm not going to let you think for one second that this was in any way your fault. Malfoy's gotten lost on his own accord, and no one else should be blamed for his own stupidity."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "He's right, Ron, you've no reason to blame yourself for this." Ron nodded slightly, though not wholly convinced. Hermione turned her attention back to Harry. "Did they hit you anywhere else?" He opened his mouth, surprising himself when he replied, "No." He supposed he didn't want them to worry about him anymore than he wanted to add fodder to Ron's guilt trip. Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You still look a little peaked. Do you want to go to the clinic and have those bruises looked at? And what did they hit you with anyway, because that mark on your face looks like a shoe print--" Harry sighed, exasperated. "I'm _fine_. Besides, it's nothing that won't heal in a few days, anyway." Before she could protest, he started on a different subject. "So," he began, grabbing the large book Hermione had last looked at, "have you found out anything?" 

Hermione grabbed the book, and flipped through it about halfway, finally settling on a page. "As a matter of fact, we did. Or, at least I did anyway," she said, glancing at Ron. She showed Harry an article she had come across, entitled 'Mysterious Muggle Mishaps.' "It tells the story of a muggle schoolteacher," she began, "who began seeing her double every place that she went. The intensity of sightings culminated in her getting fired from her job. Apparently her double liked to pick flowers in the garden outside of the woman's classroom _while_ she was teaching, confusing and distracting her students because they weren't sure which teacher to pay attention to." 

Harry furrowed his brow in thought. "Does this thing have a name?" She nodded her head. "Yes. It's called a 'Doppleganger,' which essentially means 'double image' or 'double person' in German, I believe." He asked her another question. "What does this…doppleganger _do_?" She shook her head. "I can't find much on _why_ it does what it does, or where it comes from, for that matter. It seems to be perfectly harmless, though, and usually disappears after awhile." "Did the schoolteacher's ever go away?" Ron asked. Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "None of these books say anything else about her. I guess the best thing we can do at this point is ask Professor McGonagall or Prof--" She was quickly silenced by a barrage of "No!" from her classmates. 

"Hermione," Harry began, "I know you mean well, and all, but I still think we should sit this one out for a bit longer, until something else happens. I don't want to cause any undue alarm until I think there's reason to." Ron nodded in agreement. "He's right. Plus, look at what else we've got: a missing Draco. How are we to know that he hasn't downed a Polyjuice potion, or something?" 

Hermione sighed loudly. "But wouldn't he at least tell Crabbe and Goyle about it? I don't think they attacked Harry for no other reason than to find out where Malfoy was. Besides, Harry saw his doppleganger _before_ you stood up to Malfoy, Ron. If what Harry saw really was Draco, then why didn't the Slytherins come forward sooner? Because he disappeared, or whatever, _after_ you threatened him--" "You say threatened like it's a _bad_ thing--" Ron began to retort back. "Guys, please!" Harry interjected. "We're not solving anything by arguing." He glanced at the clock. "Look, it's almost time to go to bed, and we've still got homework to do. Why don't we sleep on it for now, and have another go at it at lunchtime, after Transfiguration?"

His friends gave each other an embarrassed smile, and nodded slightly. "Alright, then," Harry said, getting up from the table. "Besides," he smiled, attempting to lighten the mood, "if we start on our Potions homework now, we _may_ even finish it by next _year_." The trio left the library together, wary of Madame Pince's eyes carefully following their departure up the staircase. As Harry climbed, listening to Ron ask Hermione for advice about a particular spell he was having trouble with, he could feel the brunette glance worriedly in his direction every so often, as if she knew he was holding something back.

He didn't know why he hadn't mentioned the unnerving encounter with his doppleganger to them, or how agonizing Crabbe and Goyle's beating really was. He imagined he didn't wish to burden them with any unnecessary fretting on their part, as there really was no reason to tell them. It wasn't as if his doppleganger had actually spoken to him, or anything, just grinned…Harry convinced himself that it was the draftiness of Hogwarts' Halls which coursed a frigid shiver through his body, and not the thought of his other's malevolent sneer. He shook his head free of the lingering image, and continued to climb the series of staircases which led to the Gryffindor's common room.

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Hello, all. Sorry again about the lateness of this, but school and its blasted assignments beckoned…all bloody weekend. Oh, well, at least I got this chapter up. The bit about the schoolteacher is true, by the way. It happened back around the 1920s or so, in France. I can't remember where I last read about it, 'cause it's been awhile, but it's out there, somewhere. Coming in the next chapter: Where is Draco? Does anybody really care (besides the Slytherins, of course)? Will Harry see his doppleganger again? Who knows (besides me, that is)!? Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed this posting, and remember: Religion may be the opiate of the masses, but reviews are the chocolate bars which feed the monster of creativity inside my stomach, or something equally confusing…hoo, it's late… ~8]


	6. Insomnia

EEEKK!!!! I've got another reviewer! Woo-hoo!!! That brings the grand total to THREE!!! Thanks goes out to **Raven**, **Lady Foxfire**, and **Allocin**!!! (Hey! I guess that makes you the **Bold** and the Beautiful…heh heh heh…hrrmmmm) Muchas Gracias!! Don't worry, though. As long as _someone_ is reading it, the story will continue. I wouldn't leave anyone……………………………..hanging :) From what I've seen, it doesn't help any by threatening readers for reviews, 'cause it _really_ doesn't want to make me read that story. So, this'll be a threat-free zone. Sorry for the week lapse--it's Midterm Time! Whoop-de-doo. Well, enough of this shite, on with the story! ~8]

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Disclaimers: See Chapter 5…snicker 

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Chapter 6: Insomnia

Harry lay awake in his bed within the Gryffindor dormitory for what seemed liked hours. It may very well have been, since he had no indication of time resting atop his nightstand like the Muggles often did. He was aware of only the persistent darkness he opened his eyes to again and again, in his hopes to catch the first glimpse of dawn's sunlight which heralded the new day. Whenever Harry even rested his eyes in his longing of drifting to sleep, muscle spasms would jolt him rudely awake whenever he drew close. He had tossed and turned so many times that he wasn't sure whether or not he _had_ gone to sleep and just not realized it. 

When he failed to find comfort in _any_ position he lay in, Harry kicked his tangled sheets off and quietly got out of bed. Sliding his glasses onto his face, he made his way to the Bathrooms by the soft glow that the waxing moon held high above Hogwarts projected through the semi-curtained windows. Harry closed the door tightly before flipping the light switch on. The sight that awaited him in the mirror shocked even himself. 

Harry ran a hand slowly over his mottled cheek, hissing in a breath when he prodded too deeply. The bruises tracing his jawbone ran the gamut from a deep red to a yellowish green. He exhaled a heavy sigh, knowing full well that if any of the professors saw them then he'd be made to go to Madame Pomfrey's. Again. _That_ he wasn't about to let happen. He could only hope that at least Hermione had paid enough attention in Transfiguration to remember how to cast a decent Glamoury spell on him to cover the bruises for the time being.

When he had finished examining his face, Harry slowly lifted his nightshirt up. He gasped at the similarly colored contusions which marred his torso, far worse than those on his face. He was thankful that no one would see his chest, for it was obvious that someone had tried their hardest to kick the shit out of him. Covering himself back up with a low sigh, Harry took his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes, sore from lack of sleep. He then put his frames back on and simply studied his reflection in the mirror.

For some reason, the longer he stared at it the more unnerved he became. Before the previous morning, Harry wouldn't have given a second thought as to whether or not it was truly his reflection which greeted him in the mirror, and not another, backwards version of himself. Now he couldn't be so sure. What he _was_ certain of, however, was that his lack of sleep was beginning to catch up with him when he swore his reflection blinked when he had not. 

__

Great. Now I'm starting to bloody hallucinate.

He snapped his eyes shut and reopened them just as quickly. Harry gripped the sides of the porcelain sink and leaned in close, tensely searching the green eyes reflecting back at him. Content that their actions mirrored his own, he ran his hand through his hair with a deep sigh, padding quietly back to bed. Harry carefully slid between the sheets, mindful of aggravating his injuries. Once settled, his exhaustion finally came to claim him as he drifted off to sleep. 

* * * * * *

The next morning brought nothing but sniggers and glares towards Harry, courtesy of the Slytherins. Hermione had taken care of masking the bruises on his face, but the Slytherins knew what lay beneath it. Eating breakfast was painful enough without having to hear various members of the brood threaten to "snap him like a twig, I will" behind his back. He glared over his shoulder every so often, only to be rudely flipped off in response. Harry shook his head and turned back to his plate of scrambled eggs. Ron and Hermione sat opposite him, pointedly ignoring the bad seeds seated behind Harry. 

"Just ignore them, Harry," Ron said as he bit into a biscuit, "they're not worth the effort of even turning your head around." Harry smiled slightly, then shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth. Hermione lifted her eyes a bit to glance at the opposing table.

"And I see that Draco has yet to drag his sorry self out of hiding to join the lot of them," she commented. "Good job, Ron," she continued, "I think you've finally gotten rid of that smug little bastard." Ron grinned weakly, clearly not as overjoyed about his actions than he had been the day before.

He glanced at Harry, knowing full well what lay underneath the Glamour. Ron suspected Goyle and his partner had done more damage to Harry than he'd let on about, and for that he'd gladly carry the burden of guilt he let slip onto his shoulders until the pair got their due. As for Malfoy, he was more than a little bit intrigued as to why he hadn't yet made an appearance since yesterday afternoon. Contrary to what Hermione suggested, he knew well enough that the Slytherin was quietly contemplating his revenge in secrecy. Ron was assured of Draco's habits enough to know that what he had done to Malfoy wouldn't go by without repercussions for long. He had the feeling that Harry was only the beginning.

Ron was shaken from his reverie by a question from Hermione. "How about we meet in the Library again after History class?" Ron shrugged his shoulders with a nod. "Sounds good. Besides, I can't pass up the chance to take _two_ naps in a row--" He leaned back quickly, successfully deflecting Hermione's arm jab. 

"Ron, I swear--"

"Honestly, Hermione! What have we told you about swearing in public?" Harry snorted at the comment, his mouth full of eggs. Hermione smiled sweetly in response. 

"Sod off, Ron." 

Harry let loose a laugh and grinned broadly, wincing when he realized what a bad idea that had been. Ron then picked up his books and stood up, leaning over towards Harry in mock secrecy. 

"She's a saucy one today, isn't she, mate?" 

Harry swallowed his last bit of egg. "You've got that right. She'd better save it for Snape, though. I've heard he likes 'em like that." "You've heard he likes _women?_" Ron quipped.

Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically, standing up from the table. "One of these days, boys, I'm going to _accidentally_ turn you into ferrets." With that she picked up her books and led the trio's procession out of the Great Hall. Ron and Harry snickered quietly behind her back all the way to Transfiguration. 

* * * * * *

It had taken what little energy Harry had in him to stay awake during his classes. While Transfiguration had involved activity to keep his mind alert (namely, transmuting river rocks into snails, for some reason), it had taken repeated pokes from Hermione's quill to stir Harry from the near slumber brought on by the quiet, droning lull that was Professor Flitwick's lecturing voice; it was well known as the best non-muggle sleep aid available amongst the students. Even though his eyes barely opened wider than slits as he transcribed the lecture onto the parchment paper, Harry could still see Hermione passing him worried glances in his periphery. 

After their morning classes, the trio quickly downed their lunches so that they could spend a bit more time in the Library, noting as they left the Great Hall that Draco was once again a no-show. Over and over again they searched through the same books and brittle manuscripts they had studied the night before. Finally, Hermione closed her book loudly, a heavy sign escaping from her lips.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but there's just nothing more here on the matter. And what we have found is rather repetitive, to say the least." Harry clapped her shoulder amiably. 

"It's alright, Hermione. The best thing for us to do at the moment is just wait and see what happens, I suppose," Harry offered. She shrugged a small smile, then set about returning the books to their rightful places with Ron's help, lest Madame Pince find something to snip at them about. 

Harry was somewhat disappointed in the lack of information concerning Dopplegangers, and wondered idly if he could bring it up in class without arousing suspicions. He would only do that, however, after he found out what Malfoy had been up to, as he hadn't yet ruled him out as a possible suspect.

Ron groaned loudly when he realized what class they was next on the schedule. "_Potions?_ But we had that _yesterday_…." He trailed off, stopping dead in his tracks. "Can you even begin to _imagine?_" he whispered. Hermione shrugged. "Imagine what?"

Ron turned to face her, his eyes wide with horror. "'Imagine _what_?' The possibility of _two_ Snapes, that's what. One could suck our soul out while the other prodded us with hot pokers. Or lecture twice as much, they're all the same thing, really."

They all laughed loudly, the sound echoing against the spiral staircase they hurried down in order to reach their next class within the Slytherin Dungeons.

* * * * * *

It was nearing 11 o'clock when Harry had finally finished his Potions assignment for the next day. He laid his quill down and fought to keep his eyes open as he prepared for bed, ruminating on what a relatively good day it had been. Both Snape and the Slytherins had been quietly subdued during class, so much in fact that none of them even bothered to waste any effort with their current favorite activity of glaring at Harry or threatening Ron under their breaths. Neither were sure what had happened to Draco, but they both agreed it had a rather positive effect on the rest of the clan.

Harry said goodnight to his fellow Gryffindors, rubbing at his eyes as he placed his glasses on the nightstand. As always he slid his wand underneath his pillow, a comforting idiosyncrasy he had developed not long after his second year. With that he yawned loudly and slid his eyelids closed. Harry's thoughts drifted far from any notions of dopplegangers and the like, his unconsciousness guiding him safely into slumber.

* * * * * *

It was mere moments before Harry finally fell into a restful sleep. He dreamed vividly of Hogsmeade, of traipsing through its many specialty shops with his friends, the wizarding world's supply of knuts and galleons at their disposal. They had also found the singular Chocolate Frog wrapped with gold foil in their purchases at the sweet shoppe, their prize being sets of tickets to the Quidditch Cup Championships for life…

Anyone who had been on a Hogsmeade excursion could then understand his annoyance upon being woken up abruptly, the lingering flavor of his favorite Bernie Bott Bean dissipating rapidly as he returned to consciousness. Any initial confusion he might normally have experienced in such a situation was halted by the crushing sensation enveloping his chest. Harry blinked his eyes to clear them, though the absence of glasses prevented any actual focusing. Panic set in as he tried to take a deep breath, failing miserable when all he could manage was a small gasp. 

He squinted sharply and raised his head up a bit, a dark form vaguely discernible. Then, whatever it was leaned in forward closely, making itself clearly visible in the sliver of moonlight which had draped itself across Harry's torso.

Sitting atop his chest was none other than his doppleganger.

With a cruel, tight-lipped smile its right hand shot out and clapped down hard across Harry's mouth to stifle the scream rising within the frightened boy. Harry began to tremble violently in fear, unable to turn from the unwavering glare of his twin. The Doppleganger's visage quite suddenly soured, scowling quite malevolently as his grip on Harry's mouth tightened agonizingly. 

Harry's hands clasped around his tormentor's wrist, attempting to pry the hand away before it actually crushed his jaw. A futile effort, Harry then slapped his palm against the side of his oak nightstand fervently, praying that somebody would be woken up from the sound. He struggled uselessly for some time under his Other before hearing a drowsy voice mumble his name.

"Harry…?" 

It was Dean. Upon hearing his voice, the doppleganger whipped its head around, startled. It then turned back to Harry, tight-lipped once more. Harry watched in terror as its left hand rose towards his forehead, index finger extended. Only when it touched lightly upon his scar did Harry understand why it had clampled his mouth so roughly.

His screams would have woken the dead.

Harry's arms shot out to his sides violently, as if he had been electrocuted. His back arched from the bed so sharply that the action nearly threw his twin off, had it not squeezed its knees tightly into Harry's sides seconds before touching him. Harry had experienced few pains as torturous as this one in his short life, but this was by far the longest. Hot tears flooded from his tightly squeezed eyes, enabling him to see the piercing flashes of white light which pulsated across his closed eyelids. He could even feel the reverberations of his muffled, agonizing screams on the unflinching hand held across his mouth.

Harry was aware of only two things at that moment: the electrifying pain which coursed through the whole of his body, threatening to split his very being in two, and the featherlike touch resting upon his forehead which began it all. An idea forced its way through the haze of pain consuming him at the moment, and with all his strength Harry forced his stiff arm to blindly search for the face of his doppleganger. If he could mirror the action of his twin, then just maybe he could inflict some pain of his own.

Harry forced his eyes open to search for the weak point. He saw his blurry hand swipe against the Other's cheek. Stretching his hand up just a _bit_ higher, he came in contact with an eyebrow. When his doppleganger realized what he was trying to do, it shook its head slowly in mock disappointment and simply pushed its finger harder onto Harry's scar. 

Harry was vaguely aware of someone screaming his name in a panic just before the added pressure onto his scar became too much for the young boy to bear. A strangled gasp caught in his throat before Harry's eyes rolled backwards, catching a brief image of his grinning twin before slumping back onto the bed and into unconsciousness.

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Mwah-ha-ha-ha-haaaaaa…I've already begun writing the next chapter, which may not be as long, but it'll be up in, like, a day or so, most likely. ~8]


	7. Spells, Lies, and Ennervate

HOLY FRIGGIN' BARBECUED CRAP ON A STICK. I've got twelve reviews. TWELVE. One of them _is_ mine, mind you, but it wasn't placed there intentionally to raise my ego, or anything like that. So, that brings our number to eleven. ELEVEN. WOOO HOOO!!! To show my appreciation, I'm beginning a (yes, you saw it coming) "**Bold **and the Beautiful" column at the end of each chapter which will contain all of your loverly names---in **BOLD!!!** Why? Because I'm high on caffeine, that's why, and a college student without her caffeine is like Harry without his glasses, Linus without his blanket, and Scooby without his Scooby Snacks. That makes sense…doesn't it? Enjoy!!! ~8] 

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Disclaimers: See Chapter 6 snort

**Chapter 7: Spells, Lies, and Enervate**

"_Harry?!_"

Those who had not already been awakened by the events in the Gryffindor bedroom were jolted awake by Dean's outcry. He had witnessed everything, even the fleeing form of whatever the hell it was on top of Harry. He turned and grabbed his wand, but it was an idea that had come too late. When he spun back around, Dean saw only that the nearest window was hinged wide open, the curtains flapping wildly against the drafty breeze. 

Dean leapt out of bed and ran over to the window, leaning across the ledge to have a look at the ground below. Though it was over a ten story fall, not a single broken or bleeding body lay in sight. 

Pushing aside any confused notions that his mind was attempting to entertain, Dean turned and kneeled at his classmate's bedside amidst the bemused looks of the other waking Gryffindors. He couldn't have been any less prepared for what he saw.

Harry's head had lolled to the side, his mouth open in a silent gasp. And while tears still ran from his eyes, it was from his scar that blood flowed copiously, trickling down his bruised cheek and onto his pillowcase.

"Good Gods, mate, what the bloody hell happened to you?" he whispered quietly to Harry. By now Neville and Ron had stumbled up behind Dean. Neville gasped when he saw the blood, and looked up at Dean, who had turned to face them. 

"Dean? What's going on?"

"Harry!?" Ron's eyes grew wide upon seeing his friend, kneeling at his bedside as he fervently tried to shake him awake. He felt tears welling in his eyes when his efforts failed, wiping at the blood on Harry's forehead the best he could with his hands. "Somebody get me some towels!" he called over his shoulder, alarmed at the amount of blood pooling onto the pillowcase. Neville and the others ran into the bathroom to grab some, while Ron remained with Dean.

The red-headed boy turned to his other friend, his eyes pleading. "Dean? Who did this?" 

Dean shook his head. "I didn't see much of what was going on, but then he _looked_ at me. And I know this sounds crazy, but…it was _Harry_."

Ron turned away as he closed his eyes, clenching his jaw tightly in anger.

"You want us to go wake Dumbledore and McGonagall?" Seamus asked as he pulled shut the window panes, stifling the draft in the room. 

Ron sighed heavily, nodding his head. "Yeah," he replied quietly. Seamus clapped a stunned Neville softly on the shoulder as he led him out the door. Dean shook his head sadly as he listened to Harry's ragged breathing, Ron doing his best to soak the blood from his friend's forehead. It pained him to see the fresh bruises appearing atop the old ones, themselves a reminder of what took place only two days ago. He was now certain that this wasn't of Draco's doing; no human could've jumped from such a high distance and have gotten up so quickly afterwards. 

__

Dopplegangers seem to be perfectly harmless…

Ron paused momentarily, Hermione's words earlier in the Library slowly sinking in. He then didn't know whether or not to laugh or cry when he realized that, for perhaps the first time in her life, Hermione had been wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.

He continued his ministrations a few minutes more before a rather alert Dumbledore strided into the room, followed by a drowsy-eyed McGonagall. The old wizard's heart sank when he saw the condition of his famed student. He had long since learned that fame came with a price, and wondered if this had been a direct result of that once again.

Minerva gasped audibly at the number of bloodied washcloths that Ron had already gone through. He was on his fourth one, and it looked as if it might take a fifth for the bleeding to finally subside. Ron stood up as Dumbledore gently motioned him aside with a nod, taking his place at Harry's bedside. Albus withdrew his wand and placed the tip upon Harry's scar. "_Clottus_," he declared, terminating the bleeding. He then placed it atop Harry's shoulder, quietly commanding, "_Enervate._"

Harry sucked in a great breath before his eyes flew open, frantically searching the space around him. He no sooner began to lift his head up when Dumbledore gently smoothed his head back down onto the pillow. "Harry," he began in a calming voice, "do you remember what happened?" The worried face of the Headmaster belied his calm demeanor, and it took but two moments for Harry to remember why. His eyes instantly filled with fresh tears as he nodded his head. "Y-yes, sir," he answered shakily. McGonagall had appeared on the opposite side of his bed.

"Who attacked you, dear? Was it Vol…the Dark Lord?" Harry shook his head, though wondering why his twin's touch had made him feel as if he'd been electrocuted. "No, it was…" he paused to glance at Ron, who was rather curious of the answer, "…wasn't. I didn't really get a good look. M-my glasses weren't on." Harry closed his eyes, cursing himself for not telling them the truth. Momentarily blinding himself, however, didn't prevent him from hearing Ron exhale a loud and disappointed sigh.

Dumbledore nodded, and asked him another question. "What did this thing do to you to make your scar bleed, Harry?" Harry froze. He couldn't tell them, or they'd surely suspect Voldemort. If that were to happen, then he'd be confined under lock and key by both staff and student until he graduated. He had long grown tired of having his every movement monitored in secret by his friends and classmates, like he was some volatile chemical that might explode at any given moment. He supposed it was his fondness of privacy and theories of other possible suspects which propelled him to lie to both his Headmaster and Professor. 

Harry's mouth began to quiver as he responded. "It...cut my scar with…something sharp. That's the last thing I remember." "Did it hurt?" McGonagall questioned. It was then that the first tear slid down his face. He squeezed his eyes shut as his breath hitched in his throat. "I screamed…but, it had its hand over my mouth. That's when it started…hitting me." Even though his eyes were closed, Harry could feel Ron's glare bearing down on him. He figured this way his other, older bruises could be thoroughly explained away. 

Dumbledore nodded sadly, standing up. "Mr. Weasley, if you and Mr. Thomas wouldn't mind watching Harry for a moment, Professor McGonagall and I are going to help Madame Pomfrey prepare the clinic." Dean nodded. "Don't worry, sir. We're not going anywhere." As Dumbledore and McGonagall passed into the hall, he could see that Seamus and Neville were trying to keep some curious students who had heard the commotion at bay. 

Ron closed his eyes when they door finally shut, anger rising within him. "Why didn't you tell them?" he asked, the disapproval heavy in his voice. Harry opened his mouth to speak, surprised when Dean answered, instead. "I didn't want them thinking I had gone crazy, Ron!" he exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "Besides, it was dark. I not sure if it was what I _first_ thought it might have been." Ron nodded, as if he had meant to speak to the other boy all along. "Well, I…guess you're right. Would you mind helping Neville and Seamus out in the hall? I think everyone's up by now and wondering what's been happening."

Dean nodded, casting a last disheartened glance at Harry as he left. Certain that the door had shut, Ron knelt next to Harry once more. "Harry--"

His friend shook his head. "Ron, I'm sorry. I didn't want them thinking I was crazy, either. I've had enough of that to last me a lifetime. We're not even sure that it _was_ Vold--You-Know-You." He turned his head away, once again avoiding his friend's gaze. "I just don't want to bother anyone, is all." Ron placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry, you're our _friend_, and that of the entire school--well, three-fourths of it, anyway--as well. We're here to help you. The three of us have tried to go it alone against something _much_ bigger than us, Harry. It's alright to ask for help once in awhile." Ron felt his friend's shoulder give a shake underneath his fingers, and then moreso as Harry broke down into tears. 

The pain in his head felt fifty times that of the worst migraine, only it racked his entire body. He clasped a hand to his scar to try and stifle the agony, something he had wanted to do ever since Dumbledore had enervated him. "Ron," he choked, "when he touched my scar it felt like I was being electrocuted. And all he did was _touch_ it….that's all…" 

"It's alright, Harry," he replied soothingly, letting his friend grip his hand as the pain in Harry's body nearly tore him asunder.

Harry whimpered quietly with his hand clutched to his forehead. As he listened to his friend's heartwrenching sobs, Ron idly pondered how the doppleganger had gotten into the room in the first place.

* * * * * *

Elsewhere, deep within the darkened corridors and passageways of Hogwarts, a very irate individual hollered and cursed the very name of his adversary for the hundredth time that day.

"POTTER!! WHERE ARE YOU, YOU BLOODY GIT?! WHEN I FIND YOU, I'M GOING TO FUCKING _KILL_ _YOU!!_ CAN YOU HEAR ME, POTTER?! _POTTER?!_"

Although Draco Malfoy had been screaming himself hoarse the past few days, nary an utterance could be heard coming from the Slytherin's mouth.

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Ah, the end of yet another chapter. I know it's kind of short and rather actionless, but, hey, it had to be done. I think I'll take a break from writing it now… **::**Ducks barrage of frying pans aimed at head**::** Okay, okay…maybe not… **::**Narrowly avoids Hedwig's beak pecks**::** Okay! Okay! I'll keep writing it! I promise!!! Besides, it's too much fun J And finally, here it is, the very FIRST edition of the "**Bold** and the Beautiful": Thanks, guys!!!

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Rollllll Callllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Lily Malfoy! Taracollowen! AAAANNNNNDDDD Iris! Yay!!!!


	8. It Ain't Over...

Okay, this is gonna be a shorty, though hopefully long enough to tide y'all over until the weekend. I'm going home for Break (Booyah), so I'll have even _more _time to write at home…YAY!!! And an updated "**Bold** and the Beautiful" List has been added to the bottom of the page, in regards to the **Eighteen** Reviews I've received...eep. 'You Like Me, You Really Like Me'… ~8]

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Disclaimers: Do Not Operate Heavy Machinery or Drive While Reading this Fic. Oh, and See Chapter 7. That is all.

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Chapter 8: It Ain't Over…

Hermione sat in silence with Ron at the Breakfast table, her eyes still red and swollen from crying. Ron hadn't been able to go back to sleep after what had happened, and neither had the other fifth-year Gryffindors. He had found her crowding outside the Common Room with the other curious students, and was able to pull her away from prying ears and tell her what went on. They followed Dumbledore when he returned to collect Harry and help him to the clinic. Although he was walking mostly on his own, with some assistance from the Headmaster, Ron knew what kind of pain his friend was really in, even if he refused to show it. He also knew the other boy was tired of the piteous looks everyone was almost always casting about him, and Ron agreed that he'd be quite sick of it, too, after a short while.

They had watched on as Madame Pomfrey applied a bandage to Harry's head, an event which gave them an extreme sense of déjà vu. A Chocolate Frog and cup of Chamomile and Mugwort tea later, Harry had drifted off into a deep sleep. Pomfrey allowed them to stay for awhile, even though Harry wouldn't be going anywhere for some time. They took a seat close to one another on the nearest bed, wondering where they had gone wrong. And still they sat, though in the Dining Hall, after the nurse had suggested they grab something to eat if they insisted on coming back later.

The two were oblivious to the hushed whispers flitting about the other tables, the Gryffindors opting to keep to themselves and remain quiet. All had heard the various rumors the others often said of Harry before, and cared not to hear them again. 

Hermione looked sadly at the lone piece of bacon still simmering on her plate, untouched. She blamed herself for Harry's present condition. She knew she must have missed something in the Library, probably underneath her nose the whole time; she would just go again, later, and wouldn't leave until she found something new.

Ron, on the other hand, blamed himself. If he had just been awake for a little while longer, he could have stopped that thing from nearly murdering his best friend. He was curious, however, if that had been the intention all along. There were _several_ questions he wanted answered at the moment, though, and that was the least of them. 

Ron opened his mouth to ask Hermione one such question when the low murmur of voices around him turned into cheers and laughter. Looking up, he and Hermione saw that the Owls had arrived, letting the contents of their beaks glide to the tables below. Although Hedwig was nowhere in sight, he spotted his own owl, Pig, who fought mightily to keep himself in flight another moment longer to deliver his package. Hermione picked up the letter meant for her in a rush, sliding the wax seal open with her butter knife. Ron snatched at what Pig was carrying before the tiny owl careened into the floor with the weight. Not until he held the envelope in front of his face, however, did he see that it was red.

A Howler.

Hermione's eyes grew wide as those of the others in the room focused on Ron, some of the older students beginning to cover their ears in anticipation. Ron gulped loudly, then quickly ripped the seal off as he, too, plugged his ears with fingers.

It was his Mum.

"_RONALD WEASLEY!! I DIDN'T SEND YOU TO SCHOOL TO BULLY THE OTHER STUDENTS!!! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF EXPELLED??!! YOU CAN THANK YOUR BROTHER PERCY FOR TELLING ME THE TRUTH--_"

Percy. He had forgotten to mention to his other siblings _not to tell Percy._ It should have been pretty much implied concerning _all _of their endeavors at this point, but he still must have found out somehow. _That wanker--_

He then noticed that his small owl wasn't perched on his shoulder any longer. Pig had actually blown backwards a ways by the force of his mum's shrill and highly amplified voice. When the screaming ended, it alighted once more on his shoulder, a mass of shaking feathers. Ron cleared his throat, his face as brilliant as his hair. "Well, then."

Hermione winced, closing her letter back up. It was a congratulatory note from her parents about the high marks she had received on her last exams, but she wasn't about to bring _that_ up to Ron. She eyed the now silent envelope warily. "You all right, Ron?"

Ron shrugged. "Yeah. Mum may be pretty pissed at me, but I bet Dad's having himself a right good laugh about all this. No thanks to _Percy_, though," he finished with a scowl. Hermione smiled. "He'll be out of here before you know it, Ron. Unless he takes a position as a professor here…" 

Ron gasped. "Hermione! Ugh! Don't _even _joke about that. Really, now, have you learned _nothing_ about making such dire predictions?" Hermione laughed, then stopped herself short, knowing how Harry would have enjoyed listening to them ribbing one another. Ron must have realized the same, for they both fell silent once more, their letters forgotten. Ron then remembered he was about to ask Hermione something when the letters had arrived.

"Hermione, how do you supposed Harry's doppleganger got into the room in the first place? There was no place for him to hide until we went to sleep, and it couldn't have come in through the window…" Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "And it couldn't have apparated itself in. Dumbledore's taken care of that…" Her eyes suddenly lit up. "Ron, have you considered that maybe it just _walked_ right in, through the door?" He chewed his lip. "You think?" She nodded excitedly. "Why not? It looks just like Harry, so there'd be no way of telling them apart. And it could have gotten the Password anywhere." She began to gather her things. "C'mon," she said to Ron, "We're going to pay a visit to the Fat Lady."

* * * * * * 

Draco Malfoy was nothing short of pissed off. _Very_ pissed off. He had been running circles around the room in which he was in for the past three days, and hadn't encountered a wall yet. Not a single one. Even though it was dark (he couldn't find his wand on him), and one wasn't _supposed_ to run blindly around dark rooms, he would have given anything to smack face-first into a wall at the moment. If he found a wall, then maybe it would lead to a door, or something. Instead, his hands had repeatedly grasped nothing but empty air.

Exhausted, he dropped to his knees, and beat his fists upon the cold, stone floor. After he had successfully pounded them numb, he tilted his head back and released a primal scream of rage and frustration at the top of his lungs. 

_____________

See? Told ya it was short. Don't worry, this isn't an excuse for Writer's Block, for I have ideas. Yee-hah! And, as promised:

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Rolll Calll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Lily Malfoy! Taracollowen! Iris! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! AAAANNNNDDDD Beccy! Yay!!!!

And oddly enough, I've begun an Internship researching Radcliffe Cemetery…veddy enn-ter-esting…I think… ~8]


	9. Man in the Mirror

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Twenty-Three reviews, eh? Woo-Ha! Muchos Gracias! Who woulda' thunk it? Anyhoo, here be Chapter 9…and a thanks to Lady Foxfire, for I now have the lovely image of a Draco-clad ferret scampering about Hogwarts in a ball…heeheeheeheehee!!!! Nothing he doesn't deserve, mind you…come to think of it, that'd be one pale, smirky ferret…Enjoy, amigos! ~8]   
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Disclaimers: Really, now. It's the Ninth Chapter. Must we go through this waste of space yet again? Oh, what? We do? Alright, then…See Chapter 8. snickersnortcough Huh-huh.   
  
**Chapter 9: Man in the Mirror**   
  
It was mere moments later when Hermione and Ron found themselves standing before the portrait of the Fat Lady. Even though it was nearly eleven in the morning, she sat dozing in her chair, her chin resting solidly atop her chest. Hermione glanced nervously at Ron, who shrugged back. Hermione prepared herself and stepped forward.   
  
"Excuse me? Ma'am?" she ventured, not wanting to rudely startle the woman from her slumber anymore than she already had been that morning. Hermione reached up and lightly tapped the shoulder of the portrait, but ended up rapping against nothing more than canvas. She sighed, and raised her voice a little louder.   
  
"Um, Ma'am? Hello? We've got a question to ask you. Ma'am?" Hermione's shoulders slumped, but she gave yet another go at it. "Excuse me! It's really important!"   
  
Ron sighed in exasperation. _We could be here all day…_ He took two steps in front of Hermione.   
  
"Hullo, Fat Lady?! _Wake up!_ It's almost _noon_, for Merlin's sake!"   
  
Hermione gasped and stepped beside Ron, her face set in a scowl as if to say 'well, that was certainly rude,' but the canvas' large subject stirred awake with a snort before he could be reproached. The pink-clad portrait's head snapped up, confused until she spotted Ron and Hermione.   
  
"You two again? Can't let anyone get any sodding sleep around here, can you…" she mumbled this last part under her breath, though none too quietly. Ron rolled his eyes. "Look, we've got a question to ask you."   
  
Hermione nodded, and attempted to come off more amiably than her friend. "Do you remember what time Harry came in last night?" The Fat Lady snorted once more. "Which time?"   
  
Ron glanced alarmingly at his friend. "What do you mean?" 

The portrait shrugged. "Well, I remember the lad came in with you two around eight, and then I guess I must have fallen asleep because he came in alone a few hours later. I don't quite recall him leaving the first time though, but then again, who can keep track of all of you? I've been doing this for quite some time now, as you can imagine, and I confess that after the first fifty years, you all start looking the same. But him you'd think I'd remember, what with his scar and all…" As she spoke, her eyelids began to slowly close, and before she could finish she had dozed off again.   
  
Ron and Hermione had certainly heard enough, though, and decided not to disturb the Fat Lady anymore. "Well," Hermione said quietly, "now we at least know how it got in." Ron nodded in agreement. "Right," he responded, then glanced at the giant wizard's clock which hung along the Gryffindor's hallway. "Look, we've got a little over half an hour left until class. What do you say we visit Harry for awhile?"   
  
She shook her head. "He won't be awake yet. Madame Pomfrey said he'd be out until at least this afternoon." He nodded sadly, as she continued. "I'm going to stop by the Library to see if I can't find anything else." Ron opened his mouth in protest.   
  
"Hermione--" 

"I _know_ there's something there, Ron, and I owe it to Harry to at least have another look," she insisted, noting the exasperated look on her friend's face. "You're welcome to come, if you'd like." He opened his mouth to say something else, but instead shrugged. "Oh, alright then, why the hell not," he smiled, "I'm sure not going to waste my time by studying, so I might as well do something _useful_." She rolled her eyes as she followed him down the staircase, stifling a small smile in spite of herself.

* * * * * *   
Harry drifted along rather peacefully in a Chocolate-induced dream state. He had been fed so much when he entered the Infirmary he was curious as to when he'd actually wake up. 

He had tried hard to forget why he was in his all-too-familiar bed once more, but the dull, throbbing pain in his forehead was rather difficult to ignore, even as he slept. The lingering memory of what had happened only a few hours before floated along with Harry in the depths of his unconscious, try as he might to force it back. It had remained latent since he'd closed his eyes--until now.

While on the outside Harry's eyes beat rhythmically against their lids as he entered the beginning stages of R.E.M, inside a terrifying scenario painted itselves against the canvas of his mind.

Harry could feel himself getting out of bed, only he was back in his four-poster within the Gryffindor Common Room. As he had done two nights before, he walked to the bathroom, and once inside the lit room, gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He stared at his pajama-clad self, wondering what, exactly, he was to be looking for. No sooner had the thought left his mind when he spotted a figure in his periphery.

Harry jerked his head to the right in response, but the figure was nowhere to be seen. He felt his breath quicken, his heart thudding madly in panic. Harry stood unmoving for some time, then released a shuddering breath as he turned back towards the mirror. Only then did he scream.

Behind him was reflected _another_ Harry, this one certainly a demon in its own right. The doppleganger approached Harry from behind, but when Harry spun around, it was no longer there. Harry looked once more in the mirror to see where it had gone, and was met with two arms protruding from the glass which then encircled themselves tightly around his neck. 

Harry's reflection had come to life, and was now attempting to strangle him.

Harry screamed in terror as his doppleganger attacked him once more, vaguely aware that he was still dreaming. The reflection released one of its hands and slapped Harry hard across the cheek, and Harry found it odd that it was yelling his name.

"Harry…"

He clenched his eyes closed as the lighting in the bathroom grew blindingly brighter, and the voice increasingly louder.

"_Harry._.."

He struggled to take a breath, and as he did felt another hard slap against his cheek.

"Harry!"

At this last insistence Harry's eyes flew open, blindly searching for his doppleganger. He gasped loudly upon waking, a light stinging sensation present on his left cheek. Blinking his eyes clear he saw Madame Pomfrey hovering only inches from his face, calling his name frantically. 

"Harry! Wake up, dear, you're having a nightmare!"

Harry closed his eyes against the light and groaned slightly, mumbling to the nurse. "Alright, alright, just stop _hitting_ me…"

"Hitting you? What are you talking about, I haven't laid a finger on you--" Madame Pomfrey stopped her sentence short and looked up as McGonagall fled into the room.

"Poppy? Is everything alright? I heard you yelling from outside in the corridor."

Harry heard 'Poppy' sigh as his professor came into view, albeit a little blurry. "It's nothing, Minerva. The boy was just having himself a nightmare, nothing I can't handle. Could've done without the screaming, though, as bloody loud as it was…" McGonagall threw her a fleeting look of admonition at her choice of phrasing, but all was lost on the nurse as she bustled off to fetch another block of chocolate. The professor then turned to speak softly to her student.

"Are you sure you're alright, my dear? You look a bit pale."

__

I haven't laid a finger on you…

Harry blinked himself out of his wandering thoughts when his professor addressed him. He nodded gently, forcing a small smile. "My head hurts just a bit from earlier, but other than that I'm fine, really." Minerva's concern for the safety of her student had taken a renewed turn that morning after the horrific sight she had been witness to, and wasn't about to let slide such a casual response.

"_That_ much is not as obvious as you'd like to think it is, Mr. Potter. You're not simply 'fine,' and there's no use in pretending that you are." She softened her tone when she noticed the puzzled look which had etched itself into Harry's face. McGonagall sighed, clasping him gently on the shoulder. "Harry, even if you don't remember what happened to you this morning, then perhaps your nightmare could help clue us in--"

Harry stumbled over his words as he quickly came up with a lie. "I-I don't remember what happened in that, either."

McGonagall smiled gently. "That's not important, Harry, because there's a way of finding out what your nightmare was about regardless of your memory of it. There's a simple spell which can reveal to us what your last dream was, much like how the_ Priori Incantatem_ spell is used on our wands."

Harry stumbled on his speech once more. "Oh, yes, well, I'd rather not, actually. What if it was something stupid, like me forgetting my Potions homework again? Besides, if it was important, wouldn't I have remembered it?" McGonagall shook her head. "Not necessarily. Why don't you rest here for a moment while I go and summon the Headmaster? Once he's here, the spell won't take but a few seconds to incur--"

"Really, it was nothing. I'd rather just go back to sleep if it's okay. Maybe I'll see something this time…Professor?"

McGonagall had already left the Infirmary, Harry's words deaf on her ears. "Bloody fan_tastic_," he muttered to himself. _This I didn't need…_While he was relieved that they might know what had triggered the appearance of his doppleganger, he was nervous with anxiety what consequences their revelation might entail. Would he be monitored day and night, in fear that this had been Voldemort's plan, for his safety? Or would he simply be confined to Dumbledore's chambers, where the Headmaster could _always_ keep an eye on him? Harry still had his theories, but knew that they would never even be considered once the pain he had experienced in his scar had been taken into account, a pain only _one_ person could inflict.

Harry closed his eyes briefly as he relaxed back onto his pillow, wishing Sirius had taught him how to apparate properly. It might be impossible and illegal, but it was still something to consider. Harry released a heavy sigh, his hand unconsciously cupping his left cheek, still slightly reddened from having been slapped by someone…

* * * * * * 

"Oy! Ron! Wait up!" Ron turned from the Library's entrance at the sound of his name. Fred was waving for him to stop at the end of the staircase, with George jogging up behind him. He and Hermione smiled upon seeing them, nodding in greeting.

"Hullo, Fred, George," Hermione said to the twins. She then looked to Ron, excusing herself. "I'll meet you inside?" Ron nodded as she turned into the Library. "Right, be there in a minute." He grinned widely at his brothers. "What's up with you two? You missed breakfast."

George began warily. "That's what we needed to see you about actually." He glanced around for any wandering souls, and convinced that there were none, spoke quietly to Ron. "You see, we've got a buyer." Fred nodded excitedly before Ron could respond. "Yep. Found ourselves a gent who's interested in purchasing five _thousand_ of the Exploding Tongue-Pops. Didn't say why, only that he'd pay us five galleons for them. _Each_."

Ron beamed at them. "Gods, that's great! When do you meet with him?"

"Well, that's the thing," George responded. "He'll only meet us in Hogsmeade--this afternoon. And we've got to start finding ourselves another way of getting there, because I think Filch is onto us--" "Or that damned cat of his," interrupted Fred, "who's probably got more brains in its little kitty head than that greasy wanker could ever _dream_ of--" "And that's where you come in," George finished, "because we need to borrow the Marauder's Map from you and Harry."

Ron nodded eagerly. "Sure, no problem. Wait here a tic and I'll run up and get it for you." Ron bounded up the nearest staircase, his overly excited brothers high-fiving one another near the Library's entrance. Hermione would just have to do without him for the time being.  
  
* * * * * * 

__

Scritch.

Scritch Scratch Scritch.

Scritch Scratch Scritch Scratch…scritchscratchscritchscratchscritchscratch…

Scrrrrrrrrape.

He was almost there, he could feel it. Just a little more…a _little_ further…

__

Screeeeeech.

Draco raked his fingernails across the stone floor in frustration, after his digging efforts had proved futile. He had always heard stories of Muggles nearly digging their way to China, and thought it not such a bad idea. Even though the floor was stone, he thought maybe it could be penetrable.

Not only was he wrong, but what little fingernails he had left were thickly caked underneath with centuries of Hogwarts' dirt and grime. Although he couldn't see it, he could certainly _feel_ its grittiness. Since the floor was the only surface he had found in the last few days, Draco figured there could be no harm in trying to claw his way out, because he was now honestly considering the possibility that he had been left for dead. 

He wasn't sure why, or what asinine lesson he was supposed to learn from all of this, but he was certain of who had placed him in here.

__

Potter. 

Harry-_fucking_-Potter.

Even if he had to gnaw his way out or scream until his throat was raw and bloody, Draco swore to himself that he _wasn't_ going to die like some starved, forgotten rat. He would gratefully reserve that particular experience for Harry, who wouldn't see the light of another day once Draco was free.

Draco closed his eyes and grinned broadly in the tar black darkness, a hideously maniacal laughter rising from his throat to reverberate loudly against the stone floor of his prison. The roaring echoes of his laughter didn't stop ringing deafeningly in his ears even after he began to scream with a renewed fury he hadn't known he was capable of. 

* * * * * *

As she rounded the last bookcase on the left, Hermione was surprised to see a voluminous book currently occupying her favorite table within the Library. Idly wondering who else had been sitting there, she set her books down, using both hands to shove the book aside. She paused, however, upon glancing at its gold-embossed title: "_Aggie Odean's Tome of Omens (Volumes I - V)_." Curiosity got the best of her as she hefted the book open to the index at the back.

Running her finger down the page, she scanned the alphabetized index until she came across what she was looking for: _'Doppleganger (Page 3586).'_ Hermione held her breath as she flipped back several thousand pages, finally landing on the page marked '_Dodo - Double-Ended Skrewt.' _Brieflyskimming the short article on '_Doppleganger,_' Hermione found nothing more than what she and Ron had already read about in countless other books. She sighed in disappointment, and had moved to close the volume when she spotted a two-word blurb at the end of the entry: _'See "Fetch".'_

Hermione gasped in excitement. _Finally, a lead… _As the book only went up to the letter 'E,' she scanned the shelves nearest her until she came across a gaping hole in the otherwise tightly-squeezed stack of books. She grabbed for the next volume on the shelf, but was surprised to find that the number skipped directly to "XI - XIV"--that containing 'F' through 'J' was missing. She groaned in defeat, and instead set about pulling other "omen" books off the shelves nearest the holes. _Stupid, stupid book…_

Hermione then began to flip through the pile of books she had amassed in search of another source, desperately wishing Ron would hurry back and help her. 

* * * * * *

Ron appeared at the foot of the stairs a few minutes later, handing the rolled up map to his brothers only when he was certain no one else was in sight. "Alright, here it is. You know how to use it, right?"

George nodded impatiently. "Of course we do! We're the ones who gave it to you, remember?" "Yeah, Ron, thanks. We'll grab you something in Hogsmeade. Any suggestions?" Fred asked. Thousands of ideas filled Ron's head, but before he could voice any of them, he spotted Hermione exiting the Library. 

"Ron! There you are! I've been _waiting_ for you. We're going to be late for Herbology if we don't move it. And you'll never guess what I've found out--" Before she could continue in an excited rush, Fred spoke up. "We'll catch you later, alright, Ron? And wish us luck." He winked at Ron behind Hermione's back, kissing the map briefly before concealing it within his robes.

Hermione turned and waved good-bye to them, before warily eyeing Ron. "Good Luck? Where are they off to?" Ron gaped as would a deer caught in headlights trying to think of an excuse, but Hermione waved it off. "Nevermind, I don't think I want to know." Books in hand, she began walking down the corridor with Ron at her side. "Like I said, you're never going to believe what I've found, but it'll have to wait until class is over."

"Something useful?"

Hermione nodded excitedly. "Oh, yeah. And I've only just scratched the surface of it, too. I'm running back after Charms to find some more stuff on it. Are you going to go see Harry later? He should be awake come lunch."

"If Pomfrey will let me in, I will. I'll tell him whatever it is you're going to tell me after class, if you want."

Hermione smiled broadly. "Of course. And what's today, Friday? We've got Herbology with the Slytherins again, haven't we?"

Ron groaned. "Yep, sure do. Though, I wonder if Draco's sorry arse will be absent again. He hasn't shown up for the last three days, and he wasn't in the Infirmary. That's _more_ than fine by me, though. And it's like I said, dumb bastard probably flushed himself down the loo. He'll show up sodding wet and stinking like the piece of shite that he is in a couple of days, you'll see."

Hermione let loose an unexpected laugh as they finally approached the Greenhouse. Once inside, a quick glance was all she needed to see that once again, Draco was a no show. 

* * * * * *

"_We solemnly swear that we are up to no good_." 

Fred and George watched as the Marauder's Map came to life, every intricate detail of Hogwarts etching itself out on the worn parchment in front of them. "Alright, now, there we are." George took hold of the map and began to trace their route down an unforeseen passage to Hogsmeade, detailed on the map by the two dots with their names hovering nearby. 

Had they strayed their eyes from their current location on the map, they would have noticed that Harry's name was written not once, but _twice._

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Ah, the end…of another chapter, that is. On a side note, I happened to see the Stephen King/JK Rowling Celebrity Death Match fight on MTV early Monday morning (it's styrofoam-animation at its bloody best for those of you who haven't seen the show). King won--or, rather, his animated leg did after it was reawakened by Voldemort's lightning bolt curse…don't ask. Anyhoo, sorry for the delay, turns out I didn't write at _all_ over break. That would have gotten in the way of sleep time :] Hope the length of this one will more than make up for it. And, once again, it's time for--"The** Bold **and the Beautiful!"

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Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Lily Malfoy! Taracollowen! Iris! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! AAAANNNNNDDDDD AmerKat! Yay!!!!


	10. Priori Morpheum

Hmm…not _only_ did I get more reviews with that last chapter (Thirty-One!!!), but more _interesting_ theories, as well. Brrrravo! There's nothing a writer (well, this writer, anyway) likes more than readers who _THINK!_ To this I can only say there are a great number of people (a whole whole whole whole lot of people) in my classes who are testament to the fact that we need more of these (thinking people, that is)…

Siriusly, though (Did anyone catch that? Huh? Didjuh? Didjuh? groan : \ ), Muchas Gracias for the reviews! Let's see, um, if Reviews were alcohol, then I'd be, um, way way way drunk by now. Heh. Yeah, that's it. Anyhoo, enough of this week's " 'riter's Rant," and awayyyyy we go! ~8]

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Disclaimers: See…oh, just see a previous chapter. Any one. 'Pick a card, any card,' that sort of thing. It's your choice, really.

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Chapter 10: Priori Morpheum

Inside the Greenhouse, it was time for the annual Mandrake harvesting, much to the students' dismay. Only Ron remained oblivious to the keens of the wailing plants, too eager in what Hermione had to tell him after class to pay attention to the deafening shrieks. He would have asked her sooner, but she had been paired up with Pansy Parkinson, and he with Seamus.

With one great yank his Mandrake wrenched its roots from the soil, and he quickly gave it to Professor Sprout, who had come prepared for the occasion donning earplugs. They were all allowed to leave when the last Mandrake had been taken care of, a stubborn thing that wouldn't relinquish its pot. Crabbe had taken care of that, with just enough time for the lot of them to make it safely to the Slytherin Dungeons for Potions. Ron sighed as Hermione took her seat in the front, unaware of the two empty seats near him in the back. They would be separated for yet another class period. Nearly ridden with anxiety, Ron _knew_ this class was going to be more torturous than it usually was.

Was he ever right.

Snape strode in nearly ten minutes late, his brisk movement evident in the way his cloak billowed grandly around him. He spun on the class abruptly when he reached the podium, eyeing the room suspiciously. Ron saw his eyes narrow briefly when he came across the two empty seats in the back. It was then the professor went from 'pissed' to 'seething.'

"I've just spoken with Headmaster Dumbledore about the whereabouts of our Mr. Malfoy, who I thought had simply decided to take his Winter vacation three months _earlier_ than usual." He pointed a finger at the face of each and every student, slowly making his way around the room.

"Let it be noted, however, that Slytherin or not, this would be a rather foolish and very, very _unwise_ decision, to say the least, if I were you." He began to pace behind the podium, taking long, slow steps to the end of the table and back. He then turned to face the class once more.

"If anyone here has _any_ information on the location of Mr. Malfoy, speak. _Now_."

The students turned to their classmates, nearly all shaking their heads or shrugging at once. Snape exhaled loudly, gripping the sides of the podium.

"I find it very, _very _hard to believe that not a single, solitary _one_ of you has no idea _what_soever concerning where Mr. Malfoy could be. How about you, Mr. Crabbe, or Mr. Goyle perhaps? Surely you've come into contact with him in the last _day_ or so."

"No, Sir," Goyle ventured, "we haven't."

Snape nodded in mock disappointment. "No, then, hmm? Then perhaps the Ravenclaws?"

No response.

"Hufflepuffs?"

Silence.

"Or maybe--dare I even waste my breath in _asking_?-- the lame-brained _Gryffindors_--" A murmur of snickers erupted from a few Slytherins, threatening to interrupt the flow of Snape's tirade. Today he would have nothing of it. 

Snape banged his fist loudly against the podium, causing everyone to jump in their seats. "Be _QUIET!_" he hissed. The Professor then ran a hand through his hair and began to walk towards the back of the classroom. Ron gulped audibly when Snape stopped in front of his table.

"Mr. Weasley. You of _all_ people should know where Mr. Malfoy is." He leaned forward only inches from Ron, lowering his voice so only the young wizard could hear him. "Don't think for one second that I'm blind to all that goes on _outside_ this classroom, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps you've made good on your threats after all, hmm?" Snape then stood up straight once more, smiling at the red blush which had crept up over Ron's face. Ron knew Snape would just _love_ nothing more than to see him snap and attack the professor in front of the entire class. Ron took a deep breath to calm himself down, and replied in a perfectly even voice.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I haven't a clue where he is."

Snape simply stared at Ron for a moment or two, then addressed him once more so that the entire class could hear. "Not you, then? Well, perhaps your _asinine_ brothers--"

Marcus Flint hadn't time to even cover his mouth to stifle another laugh when Snape whirled about angrily, wand in hand. A loud gasp filled the room as he hissed, "_Silencio!_" Ron supposed Marcus had cried out in surprise the way the other boy's mouth was hanging open, but couldn't dwell on it lest he forget something Snape had just said. 

__

His brothers…

Ron's mouth dropped as had Marcus's. _The Map_! Draco would show up on the _Marauder's_ _Map_! The one his brothers had _just_ taken to Hogsmeade… Ron smacked himself on the forehead, grateful that Snape had turned his back and was already making his way to the podium once again. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner? 

__

Probably because you were hoping that he'd gone and died, _the stupid wanker_,his subconscious responded, much to Ron's surprise. He remained oblivious to the end of Snape's rant, only becoming aware of his surroundings again when the other students began taking out their quills and parchments. Ron kept his head low as he wrote, smiling broadly. _Wait 'till Hermione hears **this**_… 

* * * * * *

Harry's bespectacled eyes flitted nervously from Dumbledore to McGonagall, who now flanked the sides of his bed. He all but ignored Madame Pomfrey as his professors conversed with one another, the nurse as curious as he was. Harry had been allowed to sit up, so he was now unsuccessfully trying to sink lower into the bed. Finally, Dumbledore turned to Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Harry? Are you certain that you want to do this?"

__

Haven't I BEEN saying 'No'? he thought to himself. McGonagall spoke before Harry could even open his mouth in protest.

"Albus, it's harmless to the boy. He won't feel anything but a little tired afterwards, and his dream _might_ tell us something that _needs_ to be known." Dumbledore nodded, and smiled at Harry.

"Alright, Harry, I just need you to close your eyes for a moment…yes, that's good. Now, this won't hurt at all." Harry couldn't help but feel the least bit apprehensive as the Headmaster placed the tip of his wand onto Harry's forehead. Ever so gently, he pronounced the words, "_Priori Morpheum_."

For a brief moment, Harry felt light-headed, as if the wand was draining the contents of his head, pains and all. Then, it ended nearly as soon as it had began.

McGonagall lightly touched Harry's shoulder, signaling to him that it was alright to open his eyes. After doing so Harry was surprised to find that Dumbledore's wand was glowing a brilliant blue. His professor only smiled, then casually swished and flicked the wand in the direction of the wall. Harry's eyes grew round as what was once a flat, white surface become something like a large, three-dimensional television screen. He smiled briefly at the thought that it was much larger than any television screen his cousin Dudley would _ever_ see in _his_ lifetime. Then, a familiar feeling of anxiousness tightened at his chest as his dream began to 'play' on the wall before him.

The dream appeared a lot hazier to Harry's audience than he had remembered it. Still, there was no mistake about what was occurring. Minerva watched intently as she watched Harry enter the Gryffindor's Bathroom with so much caution, it was as if the young man _knew_ what was going to happen. She glanced worriedly at the Harry sitting on the bed next to her, who was unaware of her concerned gaze. Madame Pomfrey remained mystified by Dumbledore's wand enough as it was without having to take the whole situation at hand into account.

Harry could feel his breath quicken as his dream-self gazed into the mirror; it was like watching one of Dudley's horror movies, and he was powerless to stop anything from happening. Harry jumped when his doppleganger first caught him off guard, then quickly disappearing from sight. When he had looked into the mirror though, to see himself standing behind him, Harry heard himself and the others gasp loudly all at once.

He felt himself begin to shake in fearful anticipation as the next scene unfolded. He averted his eyes when the Doppleganger's arms shot from the mirror, but glanced back just in time to see that it wasn't Madame Pomfrey who had been slapping him across the face, but his doppleganger…

Clamping his eyes shut tightly, Harry tried to block out the frightening screams now audible to everybody within the Infirmary. _His_ screams. 

It was all over just a few mintues later. Eyes screwed shut, Harry could feel himself trembling slightly, unaware that his dream had ended. Dumbledore's hand smoothing the hair from his face brought him back to attention. Opening his eyes, Harry was surprised to find that they were wet. He sucked in a breath, blinking his eyes clear before the tears could fall. Looking up at his professors, he was now certain that they would figure out who had attacked him.

Dumbledore spoke hesitantly. "Harry…would you say you've been under a great deal of…stress, lately?" Harry glanced warily at him, unsure how to answer. "Why do you ask?" "Well, Harry," the old wizard began cautiously, "It's just that, with everything that's gone on in the last year, such as the, ah, Triwizard's Tournament, and, ahh, Cedric's death, and all, well, you haven't much, ah, _talked_ to anybody about it. What I mean to say is, I think your nightmare symbolizes how you might be trying to, ah, kill yourself--figuratively, of course--by keeping your feelings sort of 'bottled-up' inside, as the Muggles say. You'll correct me if I'm wrong, of course."

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or start bawling. Was he _serious_? Harry began to nod slowly, trying his best not to break out into a grin at the absurdity of his Headmaster's theory. "That…that's it, Professor," he managed with a small smile. "Not to say I physically attacked _myself_, of course, but you're _absolutely_ right. I don't know why I didn't see that before." _Not a bad guess, _he thought, _but they are utterly and completely clueless…_Dumbledore smiled, giving him an affectionate rub on the arm. 

"Anytime you'd like to talk, Harry, my door will always be open." Harry nodded appreciatively as he and McGonagall got up from his bedside. He couldn't help notice, however, that there was something unreadable on McGonagall's face which suggested that she wasn't quite buying into her Superior's explanation. She excused herself politely, offering the same consolation as Albus had. Before they were even outside the Infirmary, Pomfrey rushed forward with a piece of chocolate, all but cramming it down Harry's throat.

"You need to rest now," she commanded gently. "I tried to tell them you weren't quite ready yet, but do they _ever_ listen to me? Oh, no, of course not. I'm only the _Health Care Professional_, but, what do _I_ know…" As she helped the young boy settle into his bed once more, Poppy's eyes strayed to the cheek he had accused her of slapping. She had been witness to Harry's dream, had seen what happened. The longer she stared at the resting wizard's face, however, Poppy could have sworn that the faintest imprint of a hand had left its mark upon Harry's cheek. _But, surely, that can't be…_

Pomfrey shook the feeling off, and arose from Harry's bedside to continue with her duties.

* * * * * *

Hermione was having the best day of her life.

She could hardly believe the applause she was getting as she stood before all of Hogwarts, each and every student in attendance within the Great Hall clapping and cheering in her honor. 

The young girl didn't quite know _how_ she had managed to become Head Girl, Head _Boy_, a Prefect, _and_ an Auror all at once, but as Dumbledore placed the medallions and badges on her robe, she figured it just _might_ have had to do something with her being the best student at Hogwarts. Hermione knew this only because everyone had told her so year-in and year-out for as long as she could remember, even the Slytherins, on occasion. It was the best awards ceremony she had ever attended, or would have been, anyway, if Dumbledore hadn't been jarring her shoulder so roughly as she was trying to make her acceptance speech…

"Her_mione_, _wake up!_"

Hermione's eyes snapped open, quite surprised when she wasn't looking at the Hogwarts student body in the Great Hall, but rather Lee Jordan's face in the Slytherin Dungeons. Only as she took into account his urgent whisper and surprised countenance did she realized what had happened.

She.

Had.

Fallen.

Asleep.

__

In Class. 

Hermione braced herself for a smack about the head by Snape any moment now, but was more than relieved to see her professor busying himself with drilling a Ravenclaw at the back of the room for information. She exhaled a great and nervous breath, both shocked and ashamed at what she had done. Hermione didn't even want to consider what Snape might have done if he had caught her, considering what he did to a now silent Marcus Flint, a student in his _own_ House. Then again, she supposed the lecture must have been the most dull and boring _ever_ for even _her_ to have fallen asleep. She glanced up at the Wizard Clock just in time to see it strike noon--time for lunch.

At the sound of the chiming bells, the students rushed from the Dungeon almost as hurriedly as they had earlier in the week. As Hermione passed her Professor, she could have sworn she heard him mutter, "Useless. Every last one of them. Useless," under his breath. She then spotted Ron waiting for her outside the entrance. Quickly joining him, Hermione waited only a few seconds before words came gushing from her mouth.

"Ron, you will never _believe_--"

"Hermione, you'll _never _guess--"

Both friends stopped short in the hallway, having begun speaking at the same time. Hermione shook her head in protest. "Oh, no, I've been waiting _far_ too long to tell you this--"

"Yeah," Ron interrupted, "but I've had to _wait_ during all that time, so I should go first because not only have I had to wait, but I've got something more interesting to say, so here goes." He didn't even wait for the bemused look that had spread across Hermione's face to vanish before he continued.

"Alright, you know how Malfoy's missing, and everything?"

"Riiiiiight…"

"Well, I know how we can find him!" Ron beamed excitedly.

"Right, the Marauder's Map." She didn't even acknowledge Ron's dropped jaw before explaining. "I caught Harry using it right before the last Hogsmeade trip. He didn't even have time to erase it before I asked him what he was up to, and he knew better than to try and _lie_ to me--"

"B-but, _how_--"

"Then, I thought about how you had ran downstairs earlier to give something to Fred and George while I wasn't looking--"

"So how _were_ you looking--?"

"_Please_, Ron," she commented as she rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, "I'm not _blind_, you know. You don't go running upstairs for no reason at all--"

"Well, maybe I migh--"

Hermione didn't skip a beat as she continued. "And _then_ I thought, 'What would Fred and George want more than _anything_ that you've got--"

"So, you realized it _then_? Why didn't you tell me _before_ class--"

She shook her head. "Oh, see, I didn't think about the Map again until Snape started questioning everybody. And that's when I thought, 'If Draco is still at Hogwarts, then he'll be on the Map'!"

Ron stared unblinking at his friend, mouth slightly agape. His mouth moved to make words, but since he wasn't quite sure what to say, he ended up looking more like a fish gasping for air than anything at the moment. Finally, he scoffed loudly, waving his hand about as if dismissing Hermione.

"Oh, the _hell_ you did! You're just bitter that I thought of something _first_ for once--"

"I am _not_! Look, I even scribbled the idea on parchment the moment I thought about it. See? It's right there next to the date and time, along with my initials--"

"Ah, the hell with it. Either way, Fred and George have got the Map now, and they won't be back until tonight." He sighed, shoulders sagging. "Alright," he said, crossing his arms, "what _else_ have you found out?"

Hermione nearly bubbled over anew. "Well, when I got to my usual spot in the Library, somebody had left a _huge_ book of Omens on the table. It didn't tell me anything I didn't already know about Dopplegangers, but it did give me some new leads, though the book I need is out at the moment--"

Ron help up his hand. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, there. Okay, somebody _left_ this book at _your_ usual table, and now the other one you need has been _checked out_. Someone's setting you up, Hermione," he finished matter-of-factly.

She scowled disapprovingly. "Ron, I _swear_ I'm going to turn you into a ferret one of these days. Now, let me finish. The Omens book said something about a 'fetch,' which is why I need that other book, because it's in there."

"'Fetch'? What's a bloody 'fetch'?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. I only had time to look in a few other omen books, but they didn't have anything in there on 'doppleganger' _or_ 'fetch.' I'm going again after I get some lunch to check out the other books."

Ron nodded. "Alright, then, sounds good. And as much as I'd like to sniff around in old books with you, I think I'll pay a visit to Harry instead, fill him in with what we've found, and all."

"Right, and tell him about Draco and the Map, too." 

Ron smirked. "I can't believe you knew about the Map the whole time." Hermione smiled at him as they continued their walk to lunch. "Like I said, Ron, I'm not blind. Besides, we Prefects have got eyes in the back of our heads." She ignored his befuddled glance, instead choosing to image how nice the shiny badge would look on her, hoping it would look even half as radiant as it had in her dream.  


* * * * * *

__

Hmm. A piece of chicken. Just lying here in the middle of the floor.

How odd…

Sniff

__

Smells like chicken…

Slurp

__

Tastes like chicken…

Chomp

"Mmmmmpff…OWWW!!!"

Draco's cry of surprise sounded muffled against his leg, which he promptly released his teeth from. He sucked air through clenched teeth as he ran a finger over the wet bite marks.

__

Definitely NOT chicken…

He swore he smelled food, then wondered just how long a person could last, Muggle or Wizard, without it. Draco wiped the blood from his leg, then laid down flat once more upon the floor with his hands laced across his abdomen. Although his stomach rumbled fiercely, he was quite content at the moment just dreaming of all the food he would eat once he got out.

That, and imagining he had a fork, a large butcher's knife, and Potter's head served to him a silver platter.

* * * * * *

Madame Pomfrey bustled about the Infirmary, folding some extra bedsheets and straightening those already laid out on the beds. She checked every now and then on her sleeping patient, who had been under her care more times in the last five years than the rest of the student body combined.

The nurse reapplied the dressing on Harry's forehead for good measure, satisfied when no fresh spots of blood had appeared on the one she discarded. She thought it odd that there were no blade marks visible on the boy's skin, as he had claimed to have been cut with a knife or something equally sharp. She shrugged it off, returning to her sheet-smoothing activities. 

So engrossed was she in her own thoughts that she failed to notice the silent figure standing not three feet behind her.

____________

OOOOhhhooooo, wonder what's gonna happen next? Muah-ha-ha…and as for "Priori Morpheum," well, either I was going for the whole "Morpheus" = "God of Sleep" = "Dreams and Stuff" schtick or it means I've been downloading wayyyyy too frequently from Morpheus. I think you know my whacked-out mind well enough by now to guess which it is. Anyhoo, until next chapter, and…

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Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Lily Malfoy! Taracollowen! Iris! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! Amerkat! Mouse! AAAANNNNNDDDDD Lili (Danke!)!!! Yay!!!! I've Had Too Much Sugar!!! Yay!!!!

(Hmm, I guess the whole "Roll Call" bit means I've been reading wayyyyy too many MST3K fics, now doesn't it? Heh, imagine that…oh, and cough visitwebsite9formoremst3kfics cough). That is all. ~8]


	11. Crystalis

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Amerkat: Is this soon enough? What can I say? I'm easily persuadable…

Heh heh. Sorry about the cliffhanger there, guys (uh, girls, rather). I _had _to! Otherwise, Draco threatened to bite off a chunk of my shoulder… +_+ And who says it'll be my last (cliffhanger, that is)? EEE hee hee hee hee!!!!! **::**Insert Wicked Witch of the West Cackle**::** Actually, I'd rather be referred to as the Wicked Witch of the _East_, but that's another story altogether. This one's _much_ more interesting… 

Oh, yeah, and this one's a bit of a shorty…well, longer than my first ones, but shorter than my latest ones. Make sense? Ah, who cares anymore, it's 4:55 in the morning…G'night! ~8]

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Disclaimer: Um, Beware Beer because it can both Blow _and_ Suck at the same time…oh, yeah, and See Previous Chapter…suckersssss (Hmm…two Simpsons references in one shot…boo-yah).

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Chapter 11: Bankruptcy (HA! Kidding, kidding…groan)

AHEM 

The _REAL_ Chapter 11: Crystalis

Madame Pomfrey leaned over the bed, picking up the stack of freshly washed linens she had just folded. It wasn't until she was upright did she notice the candy wrapper lying at her feet. Balancing the sheets with one arm, she knelt down the best she could, reaching with her other hand for the plastic wrapper. No sooner was it in her hand when the pile of linens toppled over and onto the floor. Only when she was on her hands and knees did Poppy realize that a shadow shared the floor space with hers. 

Standing up quickly, she whirled around.

"Ronald Weasley! Didn't your parents teach you anything about not trying to _scare_ people out of their wits?"

Ron blushed a brilliant red. "Sorry 'bout that, Miss Pomfrey, but I didn't want to startle you, or anything."

As she knelt down to pick up the sheets once more, Ron heard her mutter, "Fat lot of good _that_ did." She then stood up, linens in hand once more. "Is it Harry you wish to see, dear?" she asked, motioning with her head towards Harry's sleeping form.

"Yes, Ma'am, if I could. Is he awake yet?" Poppy glanced from student to student, wondering if the boy was really serious or not. Finally, she responded, "Does it _look_ as if he's awake?" No sooner had the words left her mouth when Harry's eyes began to flutter open, having been awoken by their conversation.

"Harry! How're you feeling?" Harry gave a small smile, but had he been more awake, would have jumped for joy at his friend's visit. "Better than before, I'll tell you that." Ron grinned widely, handing Harry his glasses when he began to grope around for them. "Here you are, mate." Ron's attention shifted to the bandage on his friend's forehead. Wincing slightly, he asked, "How does it look?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, I know it's not bleeding anymore, but I haven't seen it yet." Ron nodded, then looked at Harry sadly. "You gave us quite a scare earlier. Do you…remember anything?"

Lowering his eyes, Harry absent-mindedly brought his hand up to his left cheek. "Mmm Hmm. I even had a nightmare about it not too long ago. McGonagall heard me yelling, so she ran and got Dumbledore to do this 'Priori Morpheum' or something spell on me to see what my nightmare was about."

"Priori-_what_? I haven't heard of that one. And why did they care, anyway?" Ron's face suddenly fell. "Oh, no, Harry. Have they figured it out?"

Harry laughed lightly. "No, be_lieve_ me. Dumbledore thinks it symbolizes me being too hard on myself, or some kind of psychological shite. Anyway, he used his wand to sort of _suck_ the last dream I had from my head. It was really weird, though. I mean, it wasn't exactly something I wanted to relive again, or anything. I told them I couldn't remember it, but _they_ wanted to see if I'd maybe dreamed of the person who attacked me."

"Oh, I get it. Sort of like 'Priori Incantatem' then. Did it hurt?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not at all. But…something else did." Ron eyed him strangely. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I dreamt that _thing_ kept smacking me across the face, but it was right before I woke up. I just figured it was Madame Pomfrey trying to get my attention, but when I asked her, she denied it." The color had nearly drained from Ron's face by the time Harry was finished. 

"Harry…_how_ is that possible?" Harry shook his head. "I don't know, but…I felt it, I know I did. Even after I woke up." Ron continued to stare at him in a mixture of disbelief and worry a bit longer. Growing uncomfortable, Harry changed the subject.

"So," he asked, sitting up against the headboard, "what's Hermione up to?" Ron instantly perked up. "Gods, Harry, you'll never believe what's been going on…"

Ron recounted to Harry the details about the Marauder's Map and Hermione's findings, his friend hanging onto every word with excitement.

"_Really?_"

"Yep."

"No _Way_. Marcus Flint?! But he's a Slytherin--"

  
"It was sheer torture, Harry, _sheer_ _torture_. I swear it, mate, Snape's going more nutters on us everyday. Maybe we'll be the ones to snap him, eh?" Harry smiled broadly at this, laughing out loud the best he could without drawing Madame Pomfrey's attention. "In that case, I can't _wait_ to get out of here now."

Ron motioned with his head towards the nurse. "She say when that's gonna be?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "Soon, I hope. I don't think I can take even _one_ more piece of chocolate at this point, Ron. Besides, I can't wait to see the expression on Malfoy's face when we finally find out where he's been hiding."

Ron glanced up at the clock. "Well, Harry, I say I've got another minute or two before she kicks me out, so--" Ron then smacked himself on the forehead. "Gods, Harry! I almost forgot! Hedwig brought this to you at Lunch." Reaching inside his robes he withdrew a long, slender box wrapped in brown paper. He was nearly beaming when he handed it to Harry, waiting for his friend to read the return address.

Harry's eyes lit up, nearly threatening to pop from their sockets they had grown so huge. It was from Sirius. Even though there was no return address, Harry knew that his godfather taking the risk to send him a package meant that he was safe. He stared at the package for some time before Ron gently prodded his shoulder with a smile. 

"Well, go on, open it!"

Harry carefully untied the twine knotting the paper together, shredding like a present all but the section with Sirius' name on it. Paper aside, the box itself was black, with '_Harry_' embossed in smooth, silver lettering on its cover. Lifting the top, a note fell out.

__

Dear Harry,

I hope this note finds you well. He doesn't want you to know, but Dumbledore owled me and told me what's been going on. I want you to be careful, Harry, more than ever. That's why I've gotten you this.

Inside you'll find a wand. This isn't an ordinary wand, Harry, but one carved from a magickally charged quartz crystal. It's called the Crystalis wand, and I've had it specially made for you.

The reason that this wand is so very different from yours, Harry, is that it is one of the most powerful wands ever created. For this reason it must never leave it's sheath until you feel that you are in real danger, and then and **only** then should it be used. There are no spells to recite, for simply touching the wand will allow you to possess some of the greatest power ever harnessed. That's all there is to it, Harry, unsheath I,t and then point it.

Oh, and if you should touch it before it's time to really use it, then it won't work. I don't know why because I've never seen one being used before, but I've heard tales of them in Azkaban. Please, Harry, use this just like I told you, and only when you are ready.

Be careful, Harry.

Love,

Sirius

Setting the note aside lovingly, Harry looked inside the box. Laying the leather sheath on the bed, he unrolled it gently for both he and Ron to see. When he was finished, they gasped simultaneously.

Never before had they seen anything so beautiful and masterfully carved in their lives.

The wand lay atop its protective covering looking much like a Unicorn's horn, only in solid crystal. Harry and Ron's eyes slowly met, their mouths wide open. 

"Great Merlin, Harry, look at that thing," Ron commented softly.

"I know…I know." He couldn't believe that _he_ would ever have received anything as remotely magnificent as this. Before he could dwell any longer on Sirius' letter, Madame Pomfrey was not-so-gently herding Ron out the door. "Um, I'll be by again later, Harry." Harry heard him yell, "Take care!" right before the nurse shut the door behind him. Harry then turned back to his wand--_Crystalis_--and carefully rewrapped it. He then slid it under his pillow where his other wand should have been as Poppy came over once more with a thick bar of chocolate.

She must have heard his earlier comment, because she gave him no choice but to chew as she shoved it into his mouth. Any thoughts of chucking it when her back had turned were quelled as he ruefullyswallowed the last bit of it. He then smiled, placing one hand underneath his pillow, the wand safely at his side. For the first time in nearly three days, Harry wasn't afraid to fall asleep.

* * * * * * 

Within the Library, Hermione had taken the two nearest tables and spread books across every inch of their surfaces, certain Madame Pince would have a conniption fit if she were to see her Library in such a disarray. She had pulled every Omens book, Encyclopedia of Magickal Beings, and everything in between that she saw potentially useful from the shelves around her. Half an hour later, she was down to one table, no small feat given the immenseness of the books surrounding her. 

Either the books didn't mention _either_ subject she was searching for, or the information had been repeated from that she already had. Then, finally, picking up one of the many Omen books, she hit paydirt.

Underneath 'doppleganger' was quite a few pages of accounts detailing various people and their encounters with their dopplegangers. Skimming through, Hermione found that both Muggles and Wizards alike had been encountering them for centuries. One was even a famous Muggle author of children's stories, nearly some two-hundred years ago. The more Hermione read, however, the more she noticed a disturbing trend.

After first encountering their dopplegangers, all of the people died shortly thereafter.

Hermione let the book slip from her hands and onto the pile atop the table. Was the doppleganger truly an omen of _death_? Wiping at her eyes, she chastised herself. _You're going to start sounding like that Trelawney cow if you start believing everything you read…_

She couldn't help, however, noting the similarities within each account. Finally, she earmarked the book and set it aside, picking up another to skim through. Though she didn't have time now, she made a mental note to ask Madame Pince after dinner just where the missing volume she needed of the _Tome of Omens_ series had been misplaced.

______________

Okay, like I said, a shorty…-ish. Anyhoo, it's not a cliffhanger, right? Right! Yay! And as for the "famous Muggle children's author who saw his doppleganger and then died" bit, I do believe it was Lewis Carroll. I can't find the book I read it in, but it said that he had seen his sopping wet doppleganger walk up to him or something or another one day, and right after that--he drowned.

See? Truth _is_ stranger than fiction!

And, before I fall asleep, the Updated, New, and Improved (but mainly just Updated) "**Bold** and the Beautiful" List! Yayyyyy!

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Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Lily Malfoy! Taracollowen! Iris! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! AAAANNNNNDDDDD Lady of Arundel!!! Yay!!!! ~8]


	12. The Return

Ack! Okay, here's the next chapter. Sorry it's such a shorty, but I've only just remembered that I've got a three-pager due tomorrow. Heh. Well, no time like the present, I suppose…I'll address the comments and questions y'all made later, though I really, really wanted to do it now. Oh, well. Next time, I guess…but they're really, really, really good comments and questions…ACK! Okay, I'll stop now. And thanks mucho for all the reviews! Forty-Two! Hoo-yah! ~8]

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Disclaimers: ……Oh, if you haven't figured it out by now, then forget it…sigh seeanypreviouschapter…

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Chapter 12: The Return

The rest of the afternoon's classes were rather uneventful for Ron and Hermione. As Binns bored them to tears about some Inquisition or another, Ron took the time to think where in Hogwarts Malfoy could possibly be. He had initialed possible locations on his parchment, so only he would know where he was talking about. Ron dare not write them out, in case someone where to find his notes and accuse _him_ of having done something to Draco_. Not that Snape hasn't already pegged you as the prime suspect_, he thought bitterly.

Next to him, Hermione was even beginning to daydream a bit, her thoughts drifting back to the Library. She was so anxious to find out where her missing book was that she glanced impatiently at the wizard clock every five minutes or so. Right now she could really care less about whatever Binns was droning on about, reflected by the brief notes she had taken. She was surprised that there was so little on _fetches_, whatever they were. She couldn't help but feel that she was terribly close in finding out why Harry had been attacked, so much so she was almost afraid of finding out.

When Ron had returned from the Infirmary, he had told her all about Harry's dream and Sirius' gift. Hermione was more desperate than ever to tell Dumbledore or McGonagall about what had really happened, but she knew she'd be betraying Harry's trust. She couldn't help but feeling the slightest bit more relaxed, however, knowing that Sirius was, in a way, there to protect Harry. Hermione hoped that Harry would _never_ have to use that wand, though, for as long as he lived.

So many students had drifted off at the end of Binns' class that only a few were even aware when class had ended. After assigning their homework, Binns had simply shook his head sadly and drifted through the back wall of his classroom to exit. 

* * * * * * 

Draco wasn't sure how long he had been walking down the same hallway, since he had no way to gauge time. He wasn't quite sure anymore about a lot of things, like whether it was night or day, or if he'd ever see the sunlight again. After some time he collapsed to his knees, sitting back on his heels.

He knew Potter was responsible for this, though he didn't know why, really. Had Weasley put him up to this? Not likely, he mused. Harry had enough reasons to pay him back for all the torment he had inflicted on the boy over the past five years. This was _definitely_ a solo venture, though Draco doubted Potter was smart enough to keep his mouth shut about the whole thing. He knew if _he_ were ever to pull something like this, Crabbe and Goyle would be the first to know. But, though it was in Draco's inherent nature to brag, he knew honestly that Potter could keep quiet about the whole affair until the day he died.

Refusing to accept death as a possible outcome, Draco picked himself back up and continued down the hallway, his feet dragging against the stone at every step.

* * * * * *

Ron and Hermione ate rather quickly at Dinner, not because they were starving, but the sooner they finished eating, the sooner they could get back to what they each had been planning all afternoon. Hermione was more anxious than ever to get back to her research, though she'd stop by and visit Harry before doing so. Shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth, Ron was eager for his brothers to return, wanting to try out his theories about the map as soon as possible. Much to his surprise, Hermione finished eating first. She beamed excitedly as she pushed her chair into the table. 

"Good luck, Ron. I'll see you later?"

Ron nodded, his mouth full of food. "Ahruhren." He raised a finger up for Hermione to wait a moment, and swallowed his potatoes. "I mean, alright, then." He smiled, watching her leave. Ron then noticed that Hermione had stopped, waved to someone he couldn't see, and turned and pointed in his direction. He raised himself tall, straining for a look, but didn't have to wait long for his visitors.

Ron nearly bolted from his seat at the Banquet Table when he saw his brothers finally enter, empty handed. He supposed they had left their bags of galleons under their beds or someplace, not wishing to cart around all that money to Dinner. But, if they were even the slightest bit happy, they sure weren't showing it.

Pulling out the empty chairs opposite Ron, Fred and George sank into them warily. Ron passed glances between them anxiously. "So….how'd it go?"

"You tell 'em," Fred said as he nudged George, refusing to look up from his plate.

George jabbed Fred back with his elbow. "No, you. I don't want to tell him." 

"What? You think _I _do? You tell him. You're the _older_ one," Fred replied sullenly.

George looked up slowly at his brother. "Me? I thought you were. Mum always said--"

Ron sighed loudly, tired of his eyes having to dart from one brother to the other. "_What happened?_" 

They both looked up at Ron, then each other. George shrugged. "Oh, I'll tell him. It really doesn't matter, anyway." Ignoring Ron as he rolled his eyes, he recounted their story. "Well, we got to Hogsmeade, no problem. That…_man_ was waiting for us in The Leaky Cauldron, even bought us a round of butterbeer. We told him about our _product_ again, and even gave him some _free_ samples. After that, he said he'd love to re-offer us his earlier deal," a pause, "of five galleons each."

"So?" asked Ron. "Did you take it?"

"Oh, we took it, alright," Fred said sarcastically, "took it _right_ up the _arse_. He was a _real_ nutter, that one. When we asked to get half the money upfront, until we could complete the order, the stupid bastard just laughed at us. 'Money?' he says, 'What in the name of the Gods are you talking about, boys?' Then, he laughs even louder! 'Oh, you thought I said _galleons_, as in the money! Well, I haven't got any of that. What I do have, though, are _Galleons_, by which I mean _ships!_'"

"_What?!"_

"Yep, loony wanker was a retired fisherman who had inherited all this money and shite some years ago, so he blew the lot at once making bloody _ships_!" Fred said angrily, waving his hands about.

"Oh," Ron responded downtroddenly, unsure what to say next. "Well…wouldn't you have wanted some ships? You could've sold them to Durmstrang, or something…"

"_What?_" George exclaimed. "Ron, what in the bloody hell are we gonna do with a ruddy flotilla of fucking _ships_? Try explaining _that_ one to Mum and Dad…"

"Well," Ron replied, "sorry you guys got screwed over like that."

Fred shrugged. "Well, it wasn't a total loss. We told him when he got some _money_ then maybe he'd like to try some of our other stuff, of which we gave him _plenty_ of free samples." Ron's face spread into a lopsided grin. "What'd you give him?"

George then began to smile, as well. "You see, everybody's eaten _Chocolate _Frogs, but how many lucky Wizards and Witches have tried a taste of our home-baked _Flatulence_ Frogs--" Ron held up a hand, glancing warily at his filled plate. "Wait. I don't _even_ want to know."

Chuckling, the twins turned to their brother. "So, what's been going on with you all day? Anything new come up with Harry?" Ron filled them in on the details before he got to the Map. 

Fred laughed incredulously. "You're kidding me, right? The Map isn't to be used for such nefarious purposes, Ron. Only sneaking out, and the like." George nodded at his brother. "He's right. Why in the hell would you want to find that git anyway, after all that shite he's put you guys through?"

Ron shrugged. "I dunno. I think we're the only ones who knows where he's at. I mean, wouldn't Dumbledore have done something about it if he knew?"

Fred sighed. "I suppose you're right. He is human, after all--well, at least I _think_ he's human, anyway."

"We'll meet up tomorrow night, it's a Saturday," George explained, "and bring Hermione and Harry, if he'll be able to escape Pomfrey's clutches by then, that is. Binns' classroom'll be empty, so we'll meet there…after Dinner?" 

Ron and Fred nodded. George then passed Ron the Map under the table, smiling secretively. His brothers then grabbed a plate each and began to fork food onto them as Ron placed the Map inside his robe. He'd plan out their route tonight.

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Heh. Sorry if the title seemed a bit misleading, but I really couldn't come up with a better one. And it does feature the return of someone, no? Si. Okey then, here's this installment's "**Bold** and the Beautiful" list…Yay!!!

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Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Lily Malfoy! Taracollowen! Iris (gooooood guesses!)! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer (Blessed Be, sista)! Breea! Lassy D! AAAANNNNNDDDDD Kim!!! Yay!!!! ~8]


	13. O Draco, Where Art Thou?

Heh heh. Sorry this is a little late. Once _again_ I had schoolwork to do, dang it...how _dare_ they…Oh, well. I figure since I've only got one more month of school for the rest of my life, I'd better do _something_ if I plan on graduating…A HA HA HAAAA!!! Uh, heh, sorry. In the past few months or so I've been struck not with Senioritis, but the Senior Plague. Far, far worse, as you can imagine. The symptoms include imagining every regular, boring tree to be a Palm Tree and every paved parking lot to be a sandy, tropical beach. That, and there's also an overwhelming desire to write page upon page of fanfiction until you get carpal tunnel syndrome. Yep. It's _that_ bad…

Anyhoo, this edition of "'riter's Rant" will come to a close now, because I do believe there's a story that needs tellin'. If these recent chapters (and probably the next) seem to be leading up to something, then that's because they are….Mwah ha haaa…Oh, yeah, but first I finally get to respond to some comments. Yay!!!

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Iris: Ya know, when Snape had mentioned to Ron that _he_ of all people would know where Draco was, it hadn't even occurred to me that he would be hinting about the Map. I put that in to let y'all know Snape had heard Ron threaten Malfoy after class, but your idea works so very, very much better…D'oh… :] And about "fetch"--you're really really close…like | **this** | much--Hee hee hee!

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Breea: I hope I've done better with this chapter in delineating who's speaking when. I sometimes forget you guys can't see what I'm thinking…unless you can, then you'd be psychic, and you'd already know how the story ends…Eep! Forget I mentioned that last part… **:**O 

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Taracollowen: ::Sniff Sniff:: Yep. That last chapter, this, and mayyyybe the next will be the dreaded "connection chapters." I'm going to try and post them twice a week, so I don't feel like I'm ripping y'all off by not giving you a solid chapter, if that made _any _sense whatsoever…oh, dear. I fear the Senior Plague has already reached the logic area of my brain. It won't be much longer now… ;)

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ArchArtist/Writer: Don't worry, no offense taken whatsoever. And although I can't really truly answer your question now ('cause it'll be answered very very soon), I do have one of my own--Duuude! Someone _taught_you about dopplegangers?! Sweeeet. Who Where and uh, How, I guess is my question. In school? At home? 'Cause none of the good stuff is _ever_ learned in school…even when you have to pay for it… **:**]

Okay, that be all for now. This is Chapter 13, but if you're super superstitious like my Grandma, then I'll just call this Chapter…14ish. Mmmkay? Mmmkay. ~8]

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Disclaimer: Touch the screen **HERE** to find out what the Disclaimers are. And if that doesn't work, then lick **HERE**. If you tried that and it _still _doesn't work, then might I presume, using my powers of deduction, that you're **_not_** a rocket scientist? 

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Chapter 13/14ish: O Draco, Where Art Thou?

"Hermione! I was wondering how long it was going to take for Ron to wrestle your head out of that book." Harry smiled broadly as Hermione entered, hands on her hips. "Brave words from a man with no place to run," she quipped with a smile, then pulled up a chair to his bedside. He was sitting up and quite awake, a tray with a half-empty plate and a bowl of soup resting atop his lap. Beside him, it was evident by the newly accrued heap of chocolate and sugar-coated sweets piling up on his nightstand that Harry had received many a visit in the past two days. 

"How are you feeling, Harry?" 

He nodded briefly. "Better, since my main course for dinner didn't consist of a medicinal _chocolate_ bar." Hermione laughed, glad that he was well enough to joke around again. The bandage had been removed from his head, and she saw how his scar was red and more pronounced than before. 

"Your scar hasn't been hurting you, has it? It doesn't look so good," she remarked. Harry shrugged, shaking his head. "No, it's been fine. Madame Pomfrey said it would take some time to heal, so it'd be red for a little while. Nothing shifting my bangs over it can't hide for a couple of days." He ate a spoonful of soup, then asked Hermione about Ron. 

"Did he tell you about Sirius's wand?" he asked excitedly. Hermione nodded. "He certainly did. Have you got it with you?" Reaching underneath his pillow, Harry then pulled out the wand, still wrapped in its cloth. Placing it on the bed, he rolled it out carefully, as he had done earlier. Hermione gasped in amazement. 

"Harry, it's beautiful! I've never seen _anything_ like it. Did Sirius say exactly _what_ would happen once you'd touched it?" she asked. He shook his head. "He just said not to use it unless I needed to. I have a feeling when _that_ would be, but I guess I'll just find out the rest later." Harry then covered the wand back up, sliding under his pillow once more. 

Hermione leaned in towards him warily. "Aren't you a bit…_nervous_ about using it?" 

Harry's eyes widened. "Of course I am, but I have a feeling that when the moment comes, hesitation won't be an option." 

Hermione nodded her head, sharing his thought. She then motioned towards his plate. "Well, I'll let you get back to your dinner before it gets cold. I've got a few leads I want to check up on in the Library." 

"Really? Have you found anything new?" Hermione opened her mouth, unsure of what to say. _Yes, but I doubt you'll want to hear that in all probability you're going to die soon._ She didn't want to tell him about the connection she had discovered that linked dopplegangers as omens of death. Deep down, Hermione thought that maybe it was because she herself didn't believe it, and that's why she had failed mentioning it to Ron, as well. But, unlike Trelawney's predictions, this one was rife with historical data.

She looked at him sadly, his green eyes now searching hers for an answer. "Hermione?" he asked softly, "Is there something you're not telling me?" The young girl snapped her mouth shut, unaware that it was hanging open. "Of course not, Harry," she lied with a smile, "nothing Ron hasn't already told you." She then motioned towards Madame Pomfrey with her head. "Did she say when you'd be able to get out of here?"

Harry perked up, nodded his head excitedly. "Yep! Tomorrow morning, just in time for the weekend. No doubt Snape's probably pissed about me not showing up for class, but he can stuff it for all I care." 

Hermione grinned. "Ron and I'll come by tomorrow morning to help you move all this _stuff_ back to the dorms," she said, eyeing the ever-present pile of candy.

"Great! I'll see you guys first thing in the morning, then." Harry and Hermione said good night to each other as she exited the Infirmary. Once outside, Hermione closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. She was surprised to find a tear leaking down her cheek when the thoughts she had been trying to keep at bay infiltrated her mind once more.

__

They all died shortly thereafter…

Died…

DIED…

DEAD.

She snapped her eyes open with a shudder. Hurrying off towards the Library, she prayed that just this once, she was wrong. 

* * * * * *

Ron was rather surprised to find the Gryffindor Common Room empty for a Friday night. He supposed they were all still in the Great Hall, or practicing Quidditch on the field. He found himself a spot near the fire, in one of the over-sized chairs. Tossing his robe over the back of it, Ron situated himself comfortably before pulling out the Map. Tapping it with his wand and uttering the quick spell, the Map became alive. 

Ron searched through the dots until he found Draco's name. It was ever so slowly moving upwards, in one of the underground tunnels. He didn't recognize it, since it didn't lead towards Hogsmeade. Malfoy's dot would halt every now and then, its pace far slower than any of the others present. Ron then began to trace his finger through the intricate maze that was the "blueprint" of Hogwarts, finding a way which would lead out from the passage Draco was in.

Ten minutes later, Ron was nearly ready to shred the map into bits, the task far more frustrating than it initially seemed. He sighed in exasperation, his finger always tracing through to a dead end. When a promising route ended up at a brick wall, Ron fought every urge to crunch the parchment up into a tight ball. It was going to be a _long_ night.

* * * * * *

Outside the Library, Hermione stood dumbstruck. Although it had been nearly five whole minutes, she continued to gape at the sign posted on the Library doors: 

__

Closed until Lunchtime Saturday due to Gnome Infestation.

Maybe the _gnomes_ had misplaced her book…She sighed defeatedly, dragging her feet as she walked back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione hoped Ron had decided to come back from Dinner early, if was able to tear himself away from whatever mischief his brothers were about to get into next. Remembering that they had brought the Map back with him, she quickened her pace, bounding up the steps. _Maybe finding Malfoy'll cheer me up…_Hermione laughed at herself, never thinking those words would ever be running through _her _head. 

* * * * * *

It hadn't been long after Hermione had left when Harry began to feel his eyelids begin to slide closed. He didn't realize how tired he was until he finished eating. Pomfrey bustled over to him, quickly pulling his tray away before he pitched forward into it. She then made him get up to brush his teeth and such, although he was nearly half-asleep while doing so.

Harry sank comfortably into his pillow, the Nurse pulling up the sheets around him. "Have a good night, Harry," she said softly. He strained to keep just one eye open long enough to ask, "You're still letting me loose in the morning, right?" She grinned, nodding her head gently. "On the account that you don't wake up screaming, then yes, tomorrow." Satisfied, he grinned back, his eye shutting closed.

Not too long thereafter did Madame Pomfrey notice the rapid movement of Harry's eyes behind his closed lids, indicating that he had already entered into a state of deep sleep. Little did she know, however, of what was going on within.

Clad in his pajamas and alone, Harry hesitantly walked farther into the Forbidden Forest than he ever dared before. He didn't quite know why he was there, aware only of a heightened sense of fear enveloping him. The sound of leaves snapping crisply behind him sent him whirling about. Not until Harry saw the bowtruckle scurry by did he exhale nervously in relief. 

Harry's eyes constantly searched his periphery, and he turned to glance behind him every so often. It was only a few yards or so from where he started when Harry noticed the ethereal blue light pulsating on the horizon. He quickened his pace, ignoring the cuts his bare feet were receiving from the acorns and twigs littering the forest floor. The light faded in and out, its rhythm in tune to Harry's heartbeat. Breaking into a full-fledged run, Harry fought to keep up as the light increased in momentum. As he grew nearer, he realized that he was almost to the edge of the forest, a place where few had journeyed before him. 

Harry was no more than an arm's length away from the light when the ground began to give way beneath him.

Crying out in surprise he looked down. Below him was a chasm, a border he supposed was meant to demarcate the boundary of the Forbidden Forest, and Harry was unfortunate enough to find himself teetering precariously on its edge. Looking up quickly he saw that the light hovered over the chasm for only a moment more before it blinked out of existence entirely. Harry grabbed for a tree on his right, but not before he felt a hand on his left shoulder.

He turned, and briefly saw his doppleganger glower at him with crimson eyes before it shoved Harry into the infinite abyss below.

Inside the Infirmary, Harry's eyes snapped open, his mouth poised to scream. He relaxed upon realizing where he was, Pomfrey's back to him as she straightened the sheets on the bed next to him. Closing his eyes before the Nurse caught him awake, he silently thanked the Gods for not having screamed. Had he issued even a single utterance, Harry was quite sure Pomfrey would let him out of the Infirmary only _after_ Hell had frozen over, were there such a place. 

He tried his best to forget the nightmare that had just occurred, thinking only of his release in the morning and being able to go back to enjoying quality time spent with his friends.

* * * * * *

Ron was still sitting in his chair when Hermione arrived, plopping down on the cushioned seat next to him. Startled, he shifted the Map from her view none too subtly, thinking it was another student. He cautiously looked askance at the chair beside him, checking to see if the other Gryffindor had noticed.

He sighed in relief upon seeing Hermione, a blush slowly spreading on his cheeks. "Sorry, didn't know it was you."

She gave him a lopsided grin, raising her eyebrows high. "Good thing, too, because I doubt anybody else would have been fooled by your sly 'secret agent' tactics over there."

Ron crooked an eyebrow, looking quite confused. "Secret _what_?" Hermione laughed, shaking her head. "It's a Muggle thing." He shrugged his shoulders. "Riiiiight…So did you get to see Harry yet?"

Hermione nodded. "Mmm hmm, I just came from there…well, actually I just came from the Library, but it was closed because of a slight gnome problem. It should be open by tomorrow afternoon, though," she finished, "right after we help Harry move back into his _own_ bed."

Ron smiled broadly. "Really? Pomfrey's freeing him so soon? That's great! This way he can help us search for Malfoy tomorrow night, if he's up to it. You're coming too, right?" The young witch shrugged. "If I'm out of the Library by then, I will. Even if I don't make it, I can still help you _find_ him first." Ron then brought the Map back into her view. They leaned into it closely, watching the hundreds of dots moving about Hogwarts. With the tip of his wand Ron pointed to one on his right.

"See that one, right there? That's Malfoy. I'm not too familiar with these tunnels over on _that_ side of the school, because Hogsmeade is over _here_," he noted, his wand pointing to the opposite side. "Fred and George should know," he continued, "but I haven't seen them since I left Dinner. They shouldn't be much longer, though."

"Well," Hermione sighed, "I guess we'll just have to keep looking until--" Both Ron and Hermione jumped as a large furry paw suddenly flattened itself down on the parchment. Somehow Crookshanks had managed to sneak up and perch itself on the top of Hermione's chair, and was now furiously trying to swipe the 'ants' off the Map.

Ron exhaled in frustration. "Aw, Hermione! I thought you said that you'd gotten rid of that damned cat!" The feline responded to Ron's comment by growling at him, its eyes mere slits as it settled back onto Hermione's lap. "Ron! I would _never_ do such a thing! I said he was _lost_. I could never get wid of my widdle kitty cat." Crookshanks purred loudly as Hermione stratched behind its ear, the cat never taking its eyes off of Ron for even an instant.

"'Widdle kitty cat'? Great Merlin, what has that cat done to you?" 

Hermione rolled her eyes as she stroked the cat, motioning towards the Map. "Like I was saying, just because your brothers aren't here doesn't mean we can't get a head start." Ron nodded in agreement, cautiously placing the Map on the arm of his chair, eyes locked with the cat's. "Right. Well, here's what I've narrowed it down to so far…"

As Ron explained one route or another to Hermione, he thought back to something that had crossed his mind earlier. With that possessed kitty watching his every move, Ron vowed that it was going to be a very, _very_ long night. ____________________

Ta-Da! The end of yet another chapter. And there's one last thing I forgot to mention: **Forty-five Reviews! **Woo-hoo! And here I was honestly expecting five…okay, four ;] (Ah, emoticons. Where would I be without them?)

And now, this installment's edition of "The **Bold** and the Beautiful"! 

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Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Lily Malfoy! Taracollowen! Iris! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! The Female Vampire Lestat (sorry I missed you!)! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer! Breea! Lassy D! AAAANNNNNDDDDD Kim!!! Yay!!!! ~8]


	14. Sweet Release

Okay, okay. This chapter may be short, but there's another one comin' riiiiight after it. And, after that one, another, but, not as soon, maybe in like a day or so...too, many, commas… Well, there's no fun in not makin' you wait, now is there? Wait…too many negatives in that sentence, so who knows what I just said. Anyhoo, Forty-Nine Reviews, Woo-hoo! Annnnnd: Enjoy the story ~8]

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Disclaimers: coughiownnothingofthesweethappygoodnessthatistheharrypotterfranchisecough 

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Chapter 14: Sweet Release

Hermione woke up groggily at eight the next morning. She was usually an early riser, but she and Ron had stayed up until nearly two o'clock in the morning plotting a route on the Map. Outside the sun was shining much too brightly for her, and she considered rolling over and pulling the covers up over her head when she remembered why she was getting up in the first place.

Harry was due to be released at nine, and she didn't want for him to have to spend another minute longer in there than he already had. Yawning widely she rose stiffly from her bed, collecting her shower necessities before she shuffled off to the Bathroom. Once inside she shielded her eyes from the light, groaning at the dark bags that had appeared underneath them as she glanced in the mirror. 

__

Malfoy had **better** appreciate this…

As she stepped into the only-slightly-above-freezing water of the shower spray, Hermione gasped loudly in shock and then commenced to curse Draco for all he was worth. 

* * * * * *

An hour later a more pleasant Hermione entered the Infirmary, Ron beside her with a fresh change of clothes for Harry draped over his arm. They were surprised to find Dumbledore at Harry's bedside as their friend finished off his breakfast.

The elderly wizard smiled broadly as they approached. "Good Morning Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley. Come to see Harry off, have you?"

They bobbed their heads excitedly. "You bet we are, Sir," Ron responded, "Merlin knows he's probably seen the inside of this place more than his own bedroom in the past year."

He then sat beside Hermione on the next bed, oblivious to the cringing of Madame Pomfrey as they mussed up a perfectly straightened set of sheets. Harry beamed, setting his tray aside as Ron handed him the clothes. 

"Thanks, Ron. I was hoping I wasn't going to have to prance around the school wearing my pajamas." Ron laughed, and then handed a letter to Harry. "It was dropped off this morning. It's from Hagrid." 

Harry excitedly tore open the seal on the back of the parchment, unfurling it to read Hagrid's words. Harry's friend and professor had taken a session's sabbatical to go to Romania, where he was currently studying Dragons and Dragonlore under the tutelage of Charlie Weasley. Charlie had deemed it an 'internship' of sorts.

__

Hello Harry,

Hope this finds you well, and all. I'm really starting to miss you guys, but with all the Dragons here, I'm finding more than enough to keep me busy. I'll write more later when I can, because it's sort of hard to write when your hand's bandaged up to the elbow (don't ask). Take care for now, and I'll make sure to see you guys the second I get back.

Hagrid 

Harry smiled, then wished more than anything Hagrid was there at the moment. _He'd_ know what to do about all this, without having to call upon the attention of Dumbledore. Like Sirius, Harry guessed that Dumbledore had also notified Hagrid of the situation at hand, but didn't tell Harry lest he become preoccupied that they'd be overly worried. Setting the note aside on his bedstand, he moved to get up, though not before turning to the Headmaster. "Professor, could you please explain to Hermione and Ron what you just told me while I'm getting changed? I'm afraid I'll leave something out."

Dumbledore smiled and shook his head gently. "Not a problem, lad." As Pomfrey helped Harry towards the curtain area, Dumbledore turned to his students. "I was just explaining to Harry that I've reinforced the magickal barrier around the school with a 'heavy duty' protection spell, as you might call it. Earlier this week I conducted a thorough examination of it, and it seemed that a few tears had occurred here and there since last being repaired. But, they're all 'plugged up' now, if you will. It's nigh impossible for whoever attacked to return again. _No one_ will be able to breach the barrier now."

"Well, might some _thing_?" Ron questioned hesitantly.

Dumbledore looked inquisitively over the top rim of his glasses. "Why do you ask, Ron? Is there something in particular you had in mind?"

Before Hermione could answer, Ron responded nervously. "What? Oh, well, no, Sir. Not off the top of my head, I don't. Don't have anything in my mind, that is. I mean, _on_ my mind, Sir, I don't mean to say that I've _lost_ my mind--" Just before Hermione succumbed to the urge to smack Ron upside the head, Dumbledore clapped the boy's shoulder with a smile.

"No need to go any further, son. I understand perfectly." His expression then turned to one of grave seriousness, his gaze passing between his students. "You'll promise me, however, that if _anything_ out of the ordinary comes up in regards to Harry, or seems even the _least_ bit unusual, that you'll let me know at _once_. We can't afford to have whoever attacked him returning now or _ever_ again. Do you understand?"

Both Ron and Hermione nodded, hating that they were lying directly to the kindly Headmaster's face. No sooner had he turned his head to watch Harry approach did they quickly exchange nervous glances. Harry was carrying his pajamas in one hand, and a bag full of chocolate bars in the other. From her pocket Hermione conjured a small bag, into which she began to stuff the pile of "Get Well" candy Harry had received and Hagrid's letter. 

Dumbledore said his good-byes to the trio before exiting, and they also filed out behind him moments later, though not before Harry grabbed Sirius' wand from underneath his pillow. Just as Harry got to the door, Madame Pomfrey called, "And make sure to eat at least _three_ bars a day, Harry, or you'll be back in here before you know it!" 

"Don't worry, I will!" he called back, the door closing behind him an instant later.

Once outside, Harry took a deep breath. "You know, as musty as this old place is, I'd rather suck in centuries worth of mold spores any day than take one more sniff of that 'antiseptic sickbed' smell."

"Oh, to be in your shoes, Harry," Ron quipped. They both then turned to Hermione, whose good mood had become rather clouded.

"Is there something wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked in all sincerity, having seen that look fall upon her not too long ago. She shrugged her eyebrows and sighed, then checked to make sure no one was around. "Dumbledore asked whether or not we had seen anything out of the ordinary, and we said no. Harry," she finished worriedly, "we just outright _lied_ to the Headmaster."

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Harry smiled sadly. "If it's any consolation, in all honesty _you_ never saw _anything_. _I_ did, so _I'm_ the one that's been lying to him, not you." This failed to reassure his friend, who in response cast her eyes downward.

Harry continued. "Look, I know I'm asking you guys to do a lot for me, and I'm sorry, but not so much as I am grateful. We're _so_ close in figuring out what this thing is, and once we've done that, we can also find out how to get _rid_ of it. Like I said before, if Dumbledore or anyone else finds out about this, I'm sure to be under a lock and key for the rest of my years here at Hogwarts. It might insure my constant safety, but if I have to live a life without freedom and in perpetual fear, then I'd rather not live at all."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest but then stopped, and slowly began to nod her head. "I'm not sure if I completely agree with you, Harry, but I see where you're coming from. It's a shame Hagrid isn't here, or Sirius. _They'd_ know what to do." Harry looked to Ron, and then her as he replied. "You're right, _they_ aren't here, but you two _are_, and right now, you're all I've got. I'll be damned if that _thing_ is going to best the three of us. We're smarter than it could ever be." Hermione smiled brightly, and turned to gently pull Harry into a hug.

Pulling back a few moments later, she cast her eyes downward nervously. "Thanks, Harry."

Ron moved to clap his two best friends on their shoulders. "That was touching, Harry, it really was. But, if we're through waxing poetic or whatever for the day, then can we _please_ go get some breakfast? I'm _star_ving."

The freckled wizard quickly stepped back as both Harry and Hermione moved in to lightly _thwack_ him with the bags each possessed. He half-walked, half-ran backwards down the hallway, laughing rambunctiously as they followed him, bags menacingly clutched in their hands.

Soon they were walking alongside each other once again, on their way to the Dining Hall. "You know, Ron, in case they aren't serving up breakfast when we get there, then I'll gladly give you one of Pomfrey's chocolate bars--"

"Sure, I'll take one--"

"Harry! Now you eat those or you're _never_ going to get better--"

"I was, I was! Good Goddess…"

The trio was so caught up in their conversations that they failed to notice the dark figure following them from some distance away.

* * * * * *

Lying on his back, Draco opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. Or, at least what he assumed to be the ceiling. 

It was still pitch black, and by now he had completely lost track of how many days he had spent in…_wherever_ he was. At first he had tried to keep a tally by scratching a fingernail deep across his arm whenever he thought a day had ended, but who was a blind man to be a clockwatcher? 

Now Draco simply lied there, closing his eyes once more to fall back into a deep sleep. 

_______________________

AHH! No time for notes! Must move to next chapter quickly! AHH!

But, real quick (meaning you must say them in one breath, no more, no less): "The **Bold **and the Beautiful!"

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Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Lily Malfoy! Taracollowen! Iris Iolani! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! The Female Vampire Lestat! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer! Breea! Lassy D! Kim! AAAANNNNNDDDDD Urania!! That's TWENTY!! Yay!! ~8]


	15. Wake-Up Call

See? You blinked, and the next chapter was already up. Granted, it may have been a very looong blink, but still…Here it is! Yay! We're…almost…there…eep! ~8]

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Disclaimers: Hmm. I wonder if anyone's ever written "Claimers" in this spot…Oh, well…I own _nada_, and so on.

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Chapter 15: Wake-Up Call

Not an instant had passed since Ron sat down when he began to heap pancakes onto his plate, at least eight stacks high. Hermione looked on incredulously, then realized she would lose a bet had she wagered that he _couldn't _eat them all. She was well acustomed to watching the boy eat by now. Harry helped himself to some _real_ food, and deemed it an opportune time to ask them about the Map since nary a student was left in the Dining Hall.

"Are you guys having any luck with the Map?"

Both Ron and Hermione groaned. 

"All I know is that Malfoy had _better_ appreciate us finding him if he really _is_ lost, because I surely didn't enjoy losing sleep last night for _his_ sake," Hermione grumbled. 

"You're telling _me_," Ron replied, then reached into his robe for the Map. His mouth now full of pancakes, he laid it out for Harry to see. "Awrahr, sheedesch _schmack_ ere?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, shifting the Map between her and Harry. "_Swallow_, Ron, _then_ talk. Alright, Harry, you see that over there? That's where Draco is. We've tried planning a route here, here, here, _here_, here, here, aaaaand _here_. But, none of those worked. So, what we're going to have to do is somehow find our way from _here_ over to _here_, and the best way to do _that_ is to go ask _his_ brothers," she finished, thumbing in Ron's direction. 

Harry nodded slowly. "Mmm…hmm…right…could you over that just _one_ more time?"

Hermione sighed defeatedly. "Look, how about we just wait for Fred and George to get up later? You _know_ they never wake before eleven on the weekends. We'll just ask them to go over your route for tonight." 

Harry eyed her suspiciously. "_Our_ route? Aren't you coming with us?" Ron swallowed his pancakes quickly, responding for her, "Nope. She'll be in the Library. Again. We can get _them_ to come with us, though."

Looking askance to Ron, the young witch explained. "The Library's having a bit of a gnome problem, so it won't open until noon today. So that leaves me…two hours until then, plenty of time to catch up on the Potions homework I missed completing last night."

"Oh, no, Harry," Ron responded in a flat, sarcastic tone, "she didn't finish her homework at her usual hour. We'd better keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn't turn into a ruddy pumpkin." Harry snorted at Ron's sarcasm, only to receive a light kick under the table from a smirking Hermione. "Hey!" he yelled, "_He_ made the comment, not _me_." 

Ron nearly choked on another mouthful of masticated pancakes as he, too, felt a kick to the shin. "Ow! Mate, she's starting to fight dirty now." Before this could continue Hermione finished her last bite and got up from the table. "_I'm _going to start my homework. If you were smart, Harry, you'd do the same. Snape's been getting _awfully_ pissed off lately, ever since Malfoy's disappearance."

Harry shrugged. "Ah, what else is new? We'll catch up to you in a little while, though, after we pay the Weasley _elders_ a visit." They each crammed a few more pancakes into their mouths before leaving as well, on their way to the seventh-year Gryffindor dorms.

* * * * * * 

As they entered the Common Room, Ron asked another seventh-year if he had seen his brothers that morning.

The seventh-year snorted, rolling his eyes. "_Seen?_ Yeah, but I _heard_ them first. Those two snore louder than anyone I've ever heard." He then smiled devilishly. "Are you here to wake them up?"

Harry and Ron grinned back, nodding their heads. The seventh-year sat back in his chair, motioning towards the bedrooms with a flick of his hand. "Well," he replied, "by _all _means, don't let me stop you." They followed the direction of his hand, quietly padding into where the poster beds resided.

It was quite an interesting sight to behold.

Fred lay sprawled out on his chest, limbs spread in all directions, his covers kicked over the footboard of the bed. George, on the other hand, was curled up under his blanket, only a shock of red hair visible from the top. Ron quietly snuck between their beds with a large grin spread across his face, Harry having to clamp his mouth to keep his laughter from escaping. 

Taking a great breath, Ron shouted, "_WAKE UP,_ you lazy bums! It's nearly _noon_!" 

Neither twin budged.

Then, from under George's covers, they heard a muffled, "Fred, did you hear anything?"

Without moving, Fred replied, "Mmm, nope. Nothing at all. Nothing besides a wailing _banshee_, that is."

Ron sighed heavily. "Come _on_, guys, we really need your help on this--"

George bolted upright in bed, still covered with his bedsheets. "_We?_ Ron, is Hermione in here? We're not…_decent_, you know."

"No," Harry responded with a laugh, "_I_ am." Both twins leapt out of bed, running to give Harry a series of hearty slaps on the back. "Harry! It's good to see you among the living again! How's it feel?" 

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Good, good, I'm fine. _But_," he began, "I'd be much better if you could make heads or tails of _this_." With that he pulled out the Map, pointing to where Draco's dot was positioned. Fred sighed. "Oh, I just _knew_ that thing would come back to haunt us someday. And it's been doing an awful lot of that lately, wouldn't you agree, George?"

George sighed as well. "Yes, yes, wholeheartedly. But, I can never turn down a request from a _dying_ boy. What is it exactly you need our help with?"

Ron came over as Harry showed them their route, and subsequently, their 'roadblock.' When he was finished, the twins looked up at one another. "Hmm, this could definitely take awhile," one ventured. "Right," the other replied, "there's one thing we must do first."

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"Shower."

Ron motioned exaggeratedly towards the Bathrooms. "Please, be my guests." As they grabbed their towels and headed off to the showers, Harry and Ron took a seat on the opposing (and yet unmade) beds, hoping Hermione was having better luck than they were.

____________________

Whew. Okay, we can take a short break now. But, not a very long one though. Until then, why don't you read the latest "The **Bold** and the Beautiful" list? Ohh, ohh, idea! Yay!

****

Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Lily Malfoy! Taracollowen! Iris Iolani! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! The Female Vampire Lestat! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer! Breea! Lassy D! Kim! AAAANNNNNDDDDD Urania!!! Yay!! ~8]


	16. Before Your Very Eyes

Okay, FINALLY the story-ball gets rolling. It won't be until this weekend for the next chapter to come out, but that you can blame _that_ on my photography instructor. Yep. Send bags of flamin' crap to…oh, hell, I don't even know her address. Anyhoo…Once again, I would like to zend out kizzes to all of zee beautiful people who have read and reviewed zis ztory…er, story (Hey, I've got _some_ French in me, so is that enough to justify my badly typed accent? No? Oh, m'kay, then…).

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Quoth the Raven: Hmm…yes, yes, interesting point raised about Hermione's deduction skills. She _would_ have thought at some point to search for _two_ Harrys on the Map, and she will, in a later chapter…uh, oh, I might have given enough away already--OR was that last sentence (fragment) placed there _just_ to confuse you? Hrm hrm hmm hmm ha ha Ha Ha HA HA! _Oh_, I am _just_ the little devil, aren't I? Hee hee. But, yes, that idea will surface later on…_perhaps _~8]

Anyhoo, hope y'all done find this here chapter _tres_ interestin' (did I mention my French grandmother then moved to Arkansas of all places?). ~8]

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Disclaimers: My creative train of thought has derailed, so _ahem_ T'ain't mine, never will be, no way, no how.

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Chapter 16: Before Your Very Eyes

At exactly noon the Library doors swung open, and Hermione arrived not more than a minute later. Once inside she made a beeline towards Madame Pince's desk. In her hand she held a piece of paper, detailing the catalog number, name, and volume of the book she needed. The Librarian was searching in and around her desk as Hermione approached her, presumably for loose gnomes. She coughed slightly, not wanting to startle the woman. The older woman looked askance at her. "Yes, dear, what is it now?" she questioned, not bothering to hide the irritation from her voice.

Hermione handed her the slip of paper. "I've been trying to find this book, but it's not there." Peering at the young girl over the tops of her glasses, Pince raised her eyebrows. "Well, then somebody must've checked it out." As she said this, she glanced at the paper. "Hmm, actually this book hasn't been checked out in awhile. I don't recognize the name. _Some_body must've shelved it back improperly…blasted gnomes…"

Hermione's shoulders slumped, sighing. Checking every single book on every single shelf until she found it would probably take _years_, at the very least… She then noticed Madame Pince pick up her wand, moving out from behind the desk. "Hmmph. No matter," the Librarian shrugged. She raised her wand, pointing it high above her head. "_Directus Biblius_…ahh, _Catalog Number 1,396,806_." 

Hermione watched in amazement as the wand suddenly became animated, jerking Pince's arm downwards. It then pointed north-east, propelling Pince and Hermione along as it moved forward down several rows of books. They took a sharp right at the end of the sixth row, then another hard left. A few more turns and it stopped, pointing straight up again. Madame Pince sighed irritably. "Always on the top…" She knelt down and grabbed the nearest stepstool, grasping hard onto the wriggling wand. "Oh, wait just _one _moment, you." No sooner had the Librarian stepped onto the stool did the wand connect immediately to the spine of a book on the top shelf.

She hefted it out, calling down to Hermione. "_Tome of Omens…_would this be it, dear?" Hermione nodded excitedly, reaching to grab the immense book from the Librarian. Pince stepped down, her wand still once more. She glanced at the book, sighing. "Hope it was worth it…" 

Hermione thanked her, then headed eagerly for the nearest table. Heaving the tome onto the surface, she used both hands to open the book to the index. Hermione breathed in deeply, calming her nerves as she searched the indices. She flipped through the pages anxiously, now only a matter of time before she would finally find what she had been searching for.

* * * * * *

As the afternoon wore on, Fred, George, Harry, and Ron all sat huddled around the Marauder's Map. Since there were no classes that day, they had left the Common Room and quietly stole inside Binns' History class before unfurling the map; no student would certainly go lurking about _there_ on the weekends. And Binns was of no problem, because the antiquated apparition had already retired to his study for the evening, as he had done every weekend for at _least_ the past century. Still, they sat hovering over the map to keep it out of view, just in case.

After watching the slight movement of Draco's dot on the map for a while, Fred exhaled loudly. "So, let me get this straight before we go _any_ further. Both of you actually _want_ to find the bugger? I mean, haven't the last few days been some of the absolute best of your academic career without Malfoy around? Well, except for poor Harry here, that is." Both Harry and Ron nodded reluctantly.

"Who knows," Harry said wistfully, "maybe this'll change things between us." He sighed heavily. "Or not."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, right. I'm betting on the latter." He then looked up at his brothers. "Are you sure you can't come with us?" 

Fred rolled his eyes. "We'd more than love to, except that McGonagall gave us detention tonight for not being in class the other day, the old bat. Or cat, as it were."

Ron sighed. "Right. I don't think you'll have any problem finding us once we've got Malfoy in tow." "About that," George interrupted, "Have you thought to conjure up a straightjacket for the old boy? I'm sure he'll be quite the raving loony once you've found him."

Laughing, Harry replied, "That thought actually hadn't crossed my mind, but who's to say he wants to be found? I mean, this sounds just like the perfect little set-up for him. You know, disappear for a couple of days while he's lounging away in some hidden luxury room with a few house elves, only to reappear with a sob story a few days later."

George shrugged. "You may be right, Harry, but it'll be even greater if you were to catch him in the act." He held up a finger as a realization dawned on him. "Oh, and I've _almost _forgotten." Both he and Fred exchanged mischievous glances before continuing.

"There's this spell we've been working on, and we think we've finally perfected it. When you first come across Malfoy, I want you to point your wand at his face, either of you, and say _'Momento Exacteum,' _alright?"

"_Momento Exacteum?_" Ron responded incredulously. "What's _that_ supposed to do?"

The twins sniggered loudly. "What it does," explained Fred, "is capture that _exact_ moment in time, and sort of stores it in your wand, like those 'cameras' Dad's so fond of. This way, we can see the look on Draco's face when he first sees you over, and over, and over again!" 

"And we think we even found a way to project it across the _entire_ ceiling of the Great Hall, so _everyone_ can see it," George finished excitedly.

Harry and Ron exchanged nervous glances before reluctantly agreeing. "Alright," Harry replied, "but if he grows a fluffy white tail and rabbit ears, we're blaming you." 

Fred sported a lop-sided grin as George replied, "Don't _worry_. We'll take full responsibility." Turning their attentions back to the Map, the twins began finalizing the details of Ron and Harry's course.

* * * * * *

With a loud sigh, Hermione realized that in the eight hours she had been in the library, only a passing moment of that time had been spent reading anything useful from the _Tome of Omens_ she had waited so long to get. Under the heading of _fetch_ was the instruction to "See _Foretellers of Doom_ by Reva Dewbury, 1748." That book had led her to another, and then other as she searched the aisles endlessly. "_Un_believable," she muttered warily, pulling out her thirtieth book that day from the bottom shelves.

Finally, moments after the clock had struck eight, Hermione made a breakthrough.

On page 186 of "_Ghoulies, Ghosties, and Otherworldly Beasties_" was an entire page and a half on '_Fetch.'_ She brought her finger to the page, following the lines with it to keep her place as she scanned them rapidly. 

__

"The sighting of a Fetch is most often mistaken as that of its relative, the Doppleganger. It appears most often as a person's 'double walker,' and makes itself visible to all present. Unlike the Doppleganger, however, the Fetch is not as benevolent, but it is also not to be taken as an omen of death. Whereas the Doppleganger makes itself appear of its own accord, a Fetch manifests only because it has been sent by another. 

The duty of the Fetch is revealed in its namesake. It exists to fulfill the purpose of "fetching" its earthbound likeness for the one who has commanded it to do so. The creation of a Fetch is an arduous task, and only Witches and Wizards of the highest order are thought to master the necessary skill and magickal ability needed for such an endeavor. Although any such person in the Wizarding World is more than able to forge such a creature, it is most common among those traveling the Left Hand path towards Dark Magick--" 

Hermione let the book slip from her trembling hands and onto the table, where it landed with a dull _thud_. She had to find Harry… Leaving her things where they lay, Hermione turned heel and ran from the Library, ignoring Madame Pince's appalled expression on her way out. She had never felt so frantic in her entire life, a feeling that until now she had usually reserved for Final Exams. 

The young girl bolted up the staircases leading to the Gryffindor's common room. She only hoped that Harry was safely inside playing Wizard Chess with Ron, or listening in on the Weasley brothers' latest antics instead of wandering the darkened corridors of Hogwarts in their search for Draco. Nearly shouting the password to the Fat Lady, Hermione all but shoved the portrait aside as she made her way through the portal door. A quick scan of the room resulted in neither Harry nor Ron. She did catch the attention of Dean, however.

"Hermione? Something I can help you with--"

"Dean! Have you seen Harry or Ron recently?"

The boy nodded. "Sure, they left a few minutes ago with Fred and George. Wanted to show them something. I'd have gone, but my Potions homework isn't going to finish itself, if you know what I mean." He turned, bringing up his parchment scroll with a grin. "You wouldn't happen to know a spell for my quill that _would_ do my work for me, would you, Hermione?"

Receiving no answer, Dean looked around the now empty room curiously. "Hermione?"

She was already gone.

* * * * * *

Twenty minutes later, their heads full of mental notes and directions, Harry and Ron found themselves at the base of an armored-knight's statue. Ron looked at the Map, then at the knight, then back at the Map, and finally at Harry.

"Well, this can't be right! Harry, we pass this statue every bloody day! It's in the Main Hall, for Merlin's sake! Fred must have meant for us to take a left turn instead of a right back there…"

Harry took hold of the Map. "Calm down, Ron. George _said_ that we'd encounter a Knight's statue. Now we've just got to try and…open it." Harry looked at the knight curiously, ducking in and around it in search of a doorway. 

Ron searched with him. "Maybe the doorway's behind 'em or something, and we've got to move it out of the way."

Sighing, Harry raised his eyebrows. "No, he said we'd have to _open_ it somehow. He wasn't really clear on the specifics, only that it was 'easier than it looks.' Maybe _this _will work." Holding the Map in his left hand, he took hold of his regular wand with the other, and pointed it at the knight. "Alright. Here goes--"

Taking into account that Harry's hands were _both_ full, Ron interrupted him. "Um, Harry, shouldn't you be holding the Invisibility Cloak in one of those hands there?" Harry looked from the Map to his wand, sighing.

"..._Yes_…" He handed the Map to Ron, then pocketed his wand. "I forgot to grab it when we left Binns' class. I'll run back and grab it. Just stay here and keep an eye out for Filch while I'm gone, alright?"

Ron looked up at the knight statue, cocking an eyebrow. "Won't that greasy git be the _least_ bit suspicious?"

Harry shrugged, already halfway down the hall. "If he asks, just tell 'em you're really interested in the statue, or something." 

"Wait, Harry--!" Ron sighed as his friend turned the corner. When he was out of sight, Ron looked back up at the statue. "'_Interested'_," he muttered, "Not bloody likely…" He instead opted to make goofy faces against the polished surface of the knight's armor, the curves of it somewhat giving his reflections the effect of a funhouse mirror. 

* * * * * *

Bolting down one corridor or another, Hermione was nearly out of breath when she ran into none other than Pansy Parkinson and a small entourage of Slytherin girls.

"Well, if it isn't Potter's Mudblood--"

"Can it, Pansy, now is _not_ the time. Have any of you seen Harry or Ron around?"

Pansy glanced back at her fellow classmates, shrugging. She must have noted the look of panic on Hermione's face, because her answer was, for once, void of any bitterness or sarcasm. "Can't say that I have. Girls?"

"Nope." "Not me." "Fortunately, no."

Finally a fifth-year Hermione had seen in her classes stepped forward. "I passed them on my way here, back towards the Main Hall. Couldn't have been more than a few minutes ago, so they might still be there."

Hermione nodded appreciatively. "Great. Thanks for your help!" Ignoring the confused looks of the group, she then sprinted off again, heart pounding furiously. 

* * * * * *

A few moments later, Harry entered the History classroom again, though not before checking the hallway for wandering students. He walked towards the podium at the front of the class, where he and the Weasleys had been sitting. Sure enough, there below it lay his Invisibility Cloak, its telltale fabric glinting against the light. 

"_There_ you are…"

Harry stooped down and picked it up, giving it a shake before tucking it under his arm. Turning around, he was quite startled to see that he was no longer the classroom's sole occupant.

His doppleganger had returned.

Harry gave a surprised cry, stumbling back into the podium. As before, the otherworldly being simply stared at him. Harry closed his eyes briefly and swallowed, steeling himself for yet another encounter. When he opened them again, his doppleganger had already managed to cross the distance between them, and now stood less than an arm's length from the frightened boy. As Harry began to tremble, his doppleganger smiled.

And then, it spoke.

"Surprised to see me, Harry?"

Before anything could register into Harry's mind, his twin viciously backhanded him across the face. Harry careened sideways onto the floor, sending the Invisibility Cloak flying out from underneath his arm. He quickly sat up, wide eyes fixated on his Other. What terrified him the most was not the sudden violent outburst, but the doppleganger itself. Although it dressed like Harry and moved like Harry, the voice used by the doppleganger was most certainly _not_ Harry's.

It was Voldemort's.

__

No no no please Gods no not again anyone but him--

"Your Gods can't save you now, Harry."

Harry only then realized that he'd been speaking aloud. 

"Why…are you _doing_ this to me?" he questioned, his voice threatening to break.

His Other kneeled before him, its hand reaching out to roughly grip the back of Harry's neck. Harry cried out as he was pulled forward, inches from his malevolent reflection.

"You _owe_ me, boy," it hissed in Voldemort's voice, "moreso than _ever_ before." Harry clenched his teeth, his breath heaving. 

"_Sod Off_--"

Harry let loose an ear-piercing scream as a finger was forcefully pressed against his scar. An instant later it was removed, and a fine line of blood traced the already aggravated wound of his scar. Harry collapsed forward in agony. When the initial electrifying pain had worn off, Harry slowly raised himself up on his elbows. Teeth clenched in anger and pain, he wiped the tears from his eyes with the heel of his hand. 

His doppleganger then stood up angrily, walking only a few short feet away from Harry before whirling around. "Never, _ever_ defy me like that again, for the next time I might not be so _lenient_." More than ever before did Harry wish Sirius had taught him how to apparate properly. 

__

Sirius…

Recovering his breath, Harry motioned towards the front of the room. "What do you say the chances are of me getting past you and through that door over there?" His Other laughed as it turned towards the doorway. "You can't be seriousss, child…"

Harry took advantage of the brief moment of distraction and brought the Crystalis wand out from underneath his robe. He thought now was a very, _very_ good time to use it. Harry felt a surge of power issue forth from the magnificent wand the instant he grabbed hold of it. He couldn't help but smile as his doppleganger turned around, the crystal rod aimed menacingly at its chest.

With every passing second he felt the energy from the wand taking hold of him. He took note of the astonished look on his Other's face, wishing he could perform a _'Momento Exacteum'_ on it…

Much to Harry's surprise it reached out and grabbed hold of the opposing end. Only when a slow grin crept across his doppleganger's darkened features did Harry have the sickening realization that he had experienced this sensation times before, the last with Cedric.

As his surroundings melted away, Harry then understood that it was not a wand that he possessed, but a Portkey.

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HA HA! Oh, man! You guys have _no_ idea how long I've been waiting to post this chapter! Hoo hoo, yeah…sorry for the lame chapter title though. It kinda makes sense if you think about it…hrmm.

Either one of two things will now occur: Flames, flames, and more flames, or nothing at all. Hmm…can anyone guess what the preferred third route would be? You know, the proverbial "Choice C," if you will…anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Oh, dear goddess, I'm quoting Ben Stein…that means it's high time for "The **Bold** and the Beautiful" list to be rolled out once again, before my lost marbles can scatter themselves _all_ over the floor:

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Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Lily Malfoy! Taracollowen! Iris Iolani! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! The Female Vampire Lestat! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer! Breea! Lassy D! Kim! Urania! AAAANNNNNDDDDD Quoth the Raven!! Yay!! ~8]


	17. Within the Serpent's Snare

Hmm, I only _just_ realized that Harry & Co. were born in and graduated the same year as me…neat. What's that? 'Screw the author's notes and get on with the bloody storytellin'?' Oh, I see…Impatient, are we? Didn't like that last cliffhanger bit, did we? **::** Ducks Barrage of Flying Squirrels affixed with Bayonets **:: **A'right, a'right! I'm going, I'm going. Sheesh… ~8]

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Disclaimers: What? _Disclaimers?_ Instead of biting off your nails in anticipation like **Amerkat**, you're actually stopping to read the _Disclaimers!?_ Bah! Read! _Read!_ Or, see any previous chapter *_* It's _allll_ you.

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Chapter 17: Within the Serpent's Snare

Out of breath, Hermione stopped to clutch at the stitch in her side as she neared the Great Hall. No sooner had she rounded the corner when she saw Ron peering closely into the armor of a knight's statue. "Ron!"

Ron jumped, startled. "Hermione? What are you doing here?" As she ran towards him, he took in her overall disheveled appearance. "You've been running a marathon or something--?"

Her eyes wide, she fervently scanned the hallway around them. "Ron, where's Harry?" The wizard jerked a thumb back behind him. "He ran to grab the Invisibility Cloak we left in Binns' classroom. Fred and George were helping us plan our route on the Map in there. Why?"

The instant she opened her mouth to speak, they both heard a pained cry resonate in the distance. Alarm flashed in Hermione's eyes as she dug her fingers deep into Ron's arm. "Oh, Gods, that sounded like Harry…" 

Upon hearing another scream Hermione and Ron turned and ran faster than thought possible towards Binns' classroom. Finally, they burst through the door, and much to their horror realized that their arrival was a moment too late.

The two friends watched panic-stricken as the two Harrys were sucked into oblivion before their eyes.

"Harry, _NO!!!_" Hermione ran forward with an outstretched arm towards the pair, but Ron grabbed her other arm and pulled her back. "Ron--_?!_"

"Hermione, wait--!" The young girl spun on her friend, her countenance a mixture of anger and disbelief. She looked into Ron's pained eyes, and then at the grip he held on her wrist. He shook his head sadly. "You might have gone _with_ them, Hermione, wherever _that_ would be. I wasn't about to lose you, too!"

She relaxed her body with a defeated sigh, bringing her head down. Ron released his grip gently and moved to bring her towards his shoulder. "It'll be alright, Hermione. We'll get him back--" 

Hermione's head shot up, tears in her eyes as she vigorously shook her head. "No, Ron. You--you don't understand. That _thing_ wasn't Harry's _doppleganger_, it was his _fetch_." Ron furrowed his brow in confusion. "What do you mean, his fetch--?"

Waving her hands about in frustration, Hermione tried explaining herself to Ron. "His _fetch_, Ron. It's this, this _thing_ sent by another witch or wizard to sort of _capture_ and bring back someone, in this case Harry to…to _Voldemort_." 

"_What?_ Hermione, are you sure about this--?"

The young girl nodded her head with exuberance. "Yes! My book said that while anyone had the capability of creating such a monster, only those of the _darkest order_ were known to do so."

Ron sighed heavily. "Alright, alright, even if it was…_him_…that--that still doesn't explain why it looked _exactly_ like Harry--" Hermione took a step back, looking to where Harry and his twin had stood only a few moments before. "Look, this _fetch_ can take on the appearance of a _doppleganger_ if its sender wants it to. That way no one is confused by the sudden appearance of a new face, or in this case, student. I suppose if it kept in hiding then no one would really notice that there were _two_ Harrys running around this whole time."

"Wait, let me get this straight--what you're saying is that _You-Know-Who_ used his magick to create something that looked _exactly_ like Harry, and was sent here so it could bring Harry to _him_?"

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "…_Yes_." 

Ron looked down sadly, then to the spot from where his friend has vanished. "If you're right, then--he's got Harry…" he trailed off softly in disbelief. "Do you think this's got anything to do with Malfoy's disappearance?"

"I don't know, Ron….I don't know." Hermione then grabbed his arm gently, guiding him towards the door. 

"C'mon. We've got to find Dumbledore _now_."

* * * * * *

Harry awoke abruptly to another splitting headache. Pushing himself gently off the floor, he found it to emanate an intense chill which made his blood run cold. Lucky for him only his outer robe had been taken; he was still warmly clothed in much of his school uniform, though he was missing his wand. _The wand…_

Why hadn't Sirius' wand worked? He felt a twinge of sadness lurch within his stomach as his imagination ran the gamut of his darkest fears. "…_Sirius?_ No…"

A hissing voice snapped Harry out of his reverie, one he hadn't heard in a quite a long time. "Black had nothing to do with this, Potter. It was all of my master's ingenious design. And might I mention that he's _very_ pleased to have you here amongst us again, _Sssssss._"

Harry looked up and gasped, the reptilian eyes unmistakable even in the near darkness. Slithering closer to Harry, Nagini flickered his forked tongue as he awaited the young boy's response in Parseltongue. Harry scooted back up against the wall, his eyes never leaving the serpent's. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he then responded with a rather blatant question. "What does he want with me _this_ time?"

Nagini narrowed his eyes into slits, his forked tongue lashing out once more. "You'll find out soon enough, unfortunate one. Patience _is_ a virtue, after all," the large serpent hissed, raising itself up to be eye to eye with Harry, "though not one _I'm_ very well acquainted with." The snake fashioned its best approximation of a smile as it bared its fangs, rearing back as if to strike.

Harry ducked instinctively, covering his head with his arms. Just then a door on the opposite side of the room opened, flooding the barren cell with flickering torch light.

"Nagini! There'll time for that later. He is ready for the boy."

The snake turned and hissed angrily at the intruding Death Eater before reluctantly slithering away. "Rest assured, Potter, that should we meet again you _won't_ be so fortunate next time," it spoke, so that only Harry could understand him.

Allowing the large serpent to pass, the hooded Death Eater then walked into the room. "_Get up_," he commanded, standing in front of Harry. Harry scrambled to a standing position, his legs threatening to give way. "Where are you taking me?" he asked shakily, knowing full well where _he'd_ be going. His only hope was to stall the other wizard for even a moment or two longer.

"Where do you _think_?"

__

They were taking him to Voldemort…In a moment of panic Harry charged forward, rushing the Death Eater in an attempt to knock him to the ground and run off with his wand. Before he had even taken a step the Death Eater's fist was at the ready, knocking Harry clean across the temple. Harry cried out as the back of his head smacked against the stone wall. He wasn't given the chance to fall as the Death Eater took hold of Harry's left ear, jerking it forward.

"Unless you want this pierced the hard way," he growled, "you _will_ come willingly." Harry was then shoved none too gently as he stumbled towards the doorway, making sure he was a few paces in front of the Death Eater as he followed the narrow passageway. 

Moments later he encountered a high, spiraling staircase, and unsteadily began to ascend it. At the top, two large doors replete with the insignia of the Dark Mark stood before Harry. The Death Eater moved forward and shoved them open, then forced Harry into the room that lay ahead. 

It was _much_ larger than Harry's cell had been, and excruciatingly brighter. His breathing grew erratic when, from across the room, he saw Voldemort rise from his chair, waiting in anticipation. Harry averted his gaze as he walked forward, unable to look directly at the Dark Lord. He and the Death Eater finally came to a stop, and Harry could hear Voldemort's footsteps _clack_ across the surface of the stone floor as he approached.

Harry continued to hang his head down, not quite ready to face the embodiment of his and the Wizarding World's worst nightmare standing before him. The option, however, was not his to decide. He felt a cold, bony hand lift his chin up, only to meet with the face of Evil he had long grown to both loathe and fear.

"Don't look so ssscared, child. You _knew_ this day would come." 

* * * * * *

Ron and Hermione sat next to one another across from Dumbledore's desk, fidgeting with anxiety in their seats. The venerable Headmaster paced worriedly in front of his students, his head hung low in thought. He glanced occasionally at the door, as if he expected someone to walk through at any moment, but neither Ron nor Hermione had heard him summon anyone.

Ron watched as Dumbledore wrung his hands incessantly, an act he began immediately after Hermione had mentioned the word 'fetch.' The repeated motion terrified Ron not only because it was something he had _never_ seen the older man do, but also because it suggested to him that his headmaster was more distressed at that moment than he'd ever care admitting to. Neither of these thoughts quelled Ron's fears concerning Harry's safety in the _least_ bit.

They had told Dumbledore _everything_, from the fetch's first appearance to Draco's subsequent disappearance. If he was even the least bit disappointed in them for not having told him earlier, he certainly wasn't showing it. Hermione suspected that he was more shocked than anything, and they would most certainly be chastised for their actions later. 

Before she could dwell on it any longer, the door behind them opened in a rush. McGonagall walked in, not bothering to even close the door behind her. 

"Excuse my tardiness, Albus, but some of the students heard screams, and now rumors are starting to fly off the broom handle."

Albus held up a hand. "Minerva, please, shut the door first and come in." McGonagall took note of Ron and Hermione, who she thought looked as if they were going to begin crying at any moment. She then directly addressed the headmaster. "Where's Potter?" she asked apprehensively.

Dumbledore closed his eyes briefly before looking up at his fellow instructor. "We…don't know, but we're certain that he's been _fetched_ for."

Her eyes grew wide. "A _fetch_? Albus, no…_He's_ done this, hasn't he?" she asked sadly.

Dumbledore nodded. "More than likely. And please, Minerva, call him _Voldemort_. He is no more human than we are."

McGonagall lowered her head slightly, her reproachment causing her to blush in front of her students. "What, what are we going to do?" she asked anxiously.

Dumbledore sighed heavily, then looked up at his guests. "I know someone who might be willing to assist us, but telling even _you_ who it is would compromise h--that person's position. These walls have ears, as the Muggles say."

Hermione spoke up nervously. "But, we'll still be able to help, right?"

The headmaster sighed once more, as if a weighty decision had been placed on his shoulders. He was quiet for several moments before responding. "With Harry's search? Not directly. I've…another task for you." Standing up, he placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. "You say you know _exactly_ the location of Mr. Malfoy?"

Both Ron and Hermione nodded with certainty, oblivious to McGonagall's confused look. "Yes, sir, we do."

Dumbledore stood back from the desk, straightening himself tall. "Then I'm entrusting you with his..._rescue_, if that is indeed the case. I would prefer to go with you, but I must remain here, in case my absence were to beget another dire situation. If you'd like, I'll find you an instructor--"

Almost simultaneously, Ron and Hermione replied with a rather forceful, "No!" They didn't want to imagine the consequences if anybody else, let alone a _professor_ found out about the Marauder's Map. Hermione quickly explained. "No, that's alright, Professor, we can handle it. If it's alright with Professor McGonagall, though, we'd like to take Fred and George with us."

Before McGonagall could even utter a question Albus nodded. "Most certainly. That is, if you give them your blessing, Minerva?" he asked with a small smile. McGonagall shook her head in defeat, sighing. "I _suppose_ I could let them out of detention a bit earlier than planned. At least this way they can't _possibly_ get into any more trouble doing…_whatever_ it is you want them to do. I'm rather afraid to ask at this point."

Hermione and Ron slyly smiled at one another before turning serious once more. 

"Minerva," he then addressed, "I'd like you to explain what's going on to the other Professors, and employ their assistance in quelling any rumors the students might be spreading."

She nodded and turned to leave, but Dumbledore held up a hand. "Before you three go, however, I don't want _anybody_ mentioning Voldemort's name to the other students. We haven't the time needed to deal with another situation, let alone this one. I wish good luck and the brightest blessings to all of you."

With that said, Ron and Hermione stood up and exited after McGonagall, shutting the door behind them. Dumbledore sighed tiredly at their departure, closing his weary eyes. He then placed his elbows on the desk, leaning forward to let his forehead rest against the heels of his hands.

He didn't even want to imagine what was being done to Harry at that very moment…wherever he was.

* * * * * *

Looking upon Voldemort's withered and sinuous face, Harry was reminded of just how tired he really was, tired of living his daily existence in constant fear, tired of the weight of the world being put on his shoulders just from his bond with _this_ man.

His unwavering stare bored into the hell-fire eyes of the other wizard. "If you're going to kill me, then kill me," he spat bitterly, "I'm through with being frightened of you."

Voldemort stepped back, a malevolent smile displayed across his features. "Oh, I have _no_ intention whatsoever of ending your life just yet, Harry. I wouldn't _dare_ allow you the luxury of a quick death, not after all the _pain_ and _suffering_ you've caused me these passst _fifteen _years."

Try as he might, Harry couldn't help the look of terror that passed briefly before his eyes, unable to hide it from his adversary. Voldemort mentioned nothing of it as he continued. "Before we can continue with our _pleasantries_, I'm quite sure there are _more_ than a few questions on your mind. Care to ask one?"

The first thing that came to Harry's mind was, "Why? Why chase after me with a _doppleganger_? Why not just do it yourself?"

The dark wizard laughed heartily. "You can't be _serious_? What, did you honestly expect me to simply _snatch_you from the shadows? I would be detected by that old fool that serves as your headmaster in but a moment's time. No, thisss was a _far_ too engaging game of cat-and-mouse to watch for me to interrupt it. Besides, who else to better go undetected at Hogwarts than a _student_?"

Harry sighed in irritation. "_That_ I understand. But why not a double of my friends, my professors? Why _me_?" Voldemort shrugged, a faint smile forming upon his lips. "Because I've no desire to drive _them_ insane, only you. I imagine that at first you thought that you just _might_ be going mad. Besides, child, it was not a _doppleganger_ I sssent for you, but a _fetch_."

"A _fetch_?" Harry shook his head in confusion. "But, Hermione found--"

Voldemort's eyes flashed as he ground out his next words. "_She _found quite a few things that she wasn't meant to. I knew I should have killed off that damned _mudblood_ when I had the chance." 

Harry felt a heated blush radiate across his cheeks at the mention of the word, but knew better than to speak out. _Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin…_

He ignored Harry's heated face and continued. "No matter, her day will come soon enough, as will that of all those you love and cherish." Voldemort drew a great rattling breath before continuing.

"To answer your question, a _fetch_ is quite a masterful creation, if I might sssay so. You see, since I was still weakened from our _last_ encounter, I thought to prepare a vessel in which to store most of what precious energy I had left within me, a practice among us darker wizards nearing obsoletion in these modern times. My hopesss were that it might renew itself more quickly in another, younger body as _I_ continued to heal. I then chose to fabricate a being in your image, which, through the sharing of my power, would in a way take on _my_ attributes and sssuch, including my voice. It became my surrogate child, if you will."

Meeting with Harry's slightly confused but nonetheless hardened glare, he went on. "Unfortunately, it was not strong enough to survive on its own by the time it was needed, so I endowed to it a bit of Wormtail's life essence. _He_ certainly won't be needing it, anymore." At this, Harry only then realized why the groveling servant had yet to make an appearance.

Wormtail was _dead_.

Voldemort resumed. "Were there any drawbacks to my creation's acquiring of Pettigrew's characteristicsss, then I'm not yet aware of them. They hardly seem substantial in the wake of _my_ attributes, at least one of which seems to have been _intensified_ sssomewhat in its possession." He then slowly moved a bony finger towards Harry's scar. "Wouldn't you agree?" 

Harry's eyes widened as the finger drew closer. Voldemort only chuckled, then pulled it away. "We'll reserve _that _for later." He began to circle Harry once more. "Are you certain there are no _other_ questions you're just _dying _to asssk?"

Harry spoke up unsteadily. "Nagini told me that Sirius' wand wasn't his at all, but yours."

The other wizard nodded his head in satisfaction. "Yesss, yes it was. I thought maybe your _stupid _little friends might have figured out it was a Portkey before you did the _hard_ way. But, how could they have possssibly known it for what it truly was, instead of a cheap trinket sent by your _bastard_ of a godfather?"

Harry had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from opening his mouth, teeth already clenched in anger. He _knew_ Voldemort was only testing him, and he would not acquiesce to playing along with the Dark Lord's games. 

Voldemort sensed Harry's anger, and simply smiled at the boy, reveling in how he had to strain himself from issuing a rebuttal he would no doubt regret. "None of that matters now, however, not anymore. I do hope your most recent words to those closessst to you were endearing, for they are the _last_ they'll ever hear coming from your mouth." 

Harry noticed that Voldemort's eyes rose to meet those of the Death Eater nearest to them. "Vincent, would you please take Harry--" 

Harry decided that whatever was about to happen to him could wait, and he quickly interrupted the dark wizard. "Wait! I've got one more question!" Voldemort turned to him impatiently. "_What?_"

Opening his mouth, Harry stuttered slightly. "I-If the _fetch_ is a part of you, then where is it now?"

Voldemort looked down his nose at Harry, his eyes narrowing as if the young wizard had somehow discovered his creation's flaw. "That is sssomething I'd _also_ like to know. After it brought you here, I've been unable to locate it. I sussspect it inherited its own 'free will', or what have you, from both myself and Pettigrew. I had placed the _Imperious_ curse on it to do my bidding, but I fear that has sssince worn off. Now it is able to come and go as it pleases, teleporting with but a thought to where it wishes to travel, with the use of a ssspecially constructed Portkey I've designed."

Harry's eyes widened at this last revelation, but Voldemort continued before he had a chance to think further on it.

"But, no matter as to where its gone. I have no further use for it, now that you're here." He finished speaking with a tight-lipped grin of sorts. 

Harry spoke again in a rush of words. "But if it can just teleport, then why'd it have to go through the Fat Lady--" He was silenced with a fierce backhand across his face.

Harry stumbled, but was forced upright by the Death Eater behind him. Voldemort drew in close to Harry, his voice strained with hostility. "There will be _no more_ interruptions, _do_ you understand? I've waited _far_ too long for thisss, and I'm _not_ about to delay the inevitable _another_ moment more!"

Voldemort then stepped back, scrutinizing Harry's form for some time. Finally he addressed the Death Eater standing behind the boy. "I want you to take Harry to one of the lower levels, I don't care which. I sssimply want to hear the echo of his screams." He paused, smiling when Harry blanched in fear. "And find Gregory, he'll enjoy thisss. Make our little celebrity _bleed_ for me."

The Death Eater, Crabbe, spoke up hesitantly. "Are we to collect the blood now, my lord?" 

Harry gasped, then began to tremble ever so slightly when he heard this. _Blood!?_

"No, not yet. I'd explain myself to young Harry here, but then we wouldn't have anything to talk about later, now would we?" He paused, watching the boy's terrified expression. "This is sssimply…for _fun_."

Harry whimpered as Crabbe clenched his hand around a fistful of hair, using it to steer Harry down the dark staircases. Wherever he was, Harry was certain that'd he never been there before that night, the flickering torchlights setting the unfamiliar hallways alight. 

He was beginning to wonder if they'd ever reach the bottom when the stairs finally ended. The Death Eater roughly maneuvered Harry down a rather dark passageway, finally coming to a stop before a large wooden door with a few iron bars at the top by which to let light in. Crabbe kicked the door open, throwing Harry down onto the stone floor. The light that shone within all but disappeared when Crabbe slammed shut the door behind them. 

A stab of fear shot through his body as the Death Eater approached him, and he wondered if he'd honestly ever see his friends' faces again.

_________________________

Whoo, that was my longest in awhile. Yay, me! If any of this seemed confusing, I promise I'll explain it more in further chapters as I cough workoutthedetails cough Oh, yeah, and this will NOT be a death story, don't worry ;]

According to this book I've been referencing (which I've just realized I've packed up and is now at my parents' home, so I'll paraphrase here until I can find the book title), a _Fetch_ is supposed to be a supernatural creature which takes on the appearance of another in order to (you guessed it) fetch that person for someone else. Everything else I've (right again!) made up, for this here be a work o' fiction.

Before I jet, I forgot to congratulate **Tarawen**, who submitted my Fiftieth review. Your fantabulously free No-Prize will be arriving by owl someday soon! ;) Thanks _so_ much for the reviews, guys!

****

Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Je suis le Vampire Lestat! Tarawen! Iris! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer! Breea! Lassy D! Kim! Urania! Quoth the Raven (Nevermore?!)! AAAANNNNNDDDDD Melanie! Yay!!! ~8]


	18. Busqueda y Rescate

Okey-dokey, you know the drill. So, I won't waste your time today...not too much, anyway. Before I go, there's someone here who wants to say 'Hi'--Oh, yay! It's….Sombrero Harry! **c|~8] **Sort of…Anyhoo, he's stopped by to say, "Happy Cinco de Mayo, Amigas! Now let's go get wasted away in Margaritaville!" Gasp! Uh, oh, looks like _someone's_ had _one_ too many Butterbeers already…

Adios, for now! ~8] 

____________________

Disclaimers: What, do I _look_ like J.K. Rowling? _No_. Therefore, I own nothing of hers. Comprendes? _Bueno_. 

****

Chapter 18: (En Español!) Búsqueda y Rescate

It wasn't much later when Ron found himself before the Knight's statue for the second time that night. He tried to dampen his somber exterior and focus intently on the task at hand. The redhead was grateful, however, that this time they wouldn't have to pussyfoot around Filch if he happened upon them: _they_ had Dumbledore's approval.

Hermione prodded around the statue as Harry had, searching for the 'entrance' as the three Weasleys looked on. Raising herself up on her toes to look inside the knight's helmet, she looked over her shoulder at Fred and George. "I thought you said you knew how open this thing?"

The twins looked at each other and shrugged. "Well, we're _assuming_ it opens. We don't really know _all_ the details," George explained. Hermione turned around to face the statue, hands on her hips. "Well, you know what happens when you assume…" she muttered under her breath. Before either of the twins could respond, she stepped back, shaking her head. 

"I haven't the slightest clue. Maybe we should go ask Dumbledore--"

"No way, Hermione," Ron interrupted, "We told him we could handle this, and that's just what we're going to do." He then walked forward, and began to pry open the knight's breastplate. Several strained grunts later, the piece of metal still remained intact. "Oh, this thing'll open, alright," he commented sarcastically, "when _muggles_ fly."

Fred then took a turn, rapping on the opening of the angular helmet. "Hullo? Anyone _in_ there? Maybe we could just ask him to move--"

They were all startled upon hearing an unfamiliar voice, one rusted with age. "Oh, alright! But _only _if you ask _nicely_. I've 'ad just about enough o' you soddin' teenagers."

Jumping back with a cry, Fred searched the hallway surrounding them. "Um, alright. Could you _please_ move…_wherever_ you are…?"

Suddenly the sound of metal grating against itself erupted before them, the loud screeches echoing painfully throughout the corridor. The four Gryffindors covered their ears and gaped in amazement as the previously stationary statue of the knight came to life before their eyes. They took several steps back as it advanced, sword unsheathed and shield at the ready. It then stopped when it realized that its presence seemed rather frightful, and slid his long sword carefully within the metal sheath.

"Sorry 'bout that. It's been awhile, as you migh' imagine. Instincts took o'er, I suppose." The Knight then stood at attention, introducing himself. "Tasso MacDonald of the Clan MacDonald, at your service."

__

Tasso…?

Hermione shook the thought off before speaking on their behalf. "Um, yes…_Tasso_, was it? We're having a sort of a problem. Are you by any chance the guardian of a tunnel of some sorts?" A deep laugh erupted from the hollow of the armor. "Ah, you've discovered my secret, you 'ave. My congratulations and thanks t'you. My joints were gettin' to be _awfully_ stiff from standing so long." The four shared a furtive glance when the Knight turned his back to them, facing the wall he had been positioned against. 

Tasso then rubbed his metallic hands together briskly as he prepared himself, ignorant of the screeching sounds produced by the motion. "Right. That doorway's around 'ere…_somewhere_." He then began to press against each of the individual stones with burnished steel fingers, the action reminding Ron of how he had entered Diagon Alley on Floo Powder-less occasions. "Almost…nope, not tha' one…this one, perhaps? Nope, nope…" 

George rolled his eyes, wandering if the archaic statue hadn't in fact lost his mind. Then again, he mused, there wasn't exactly a _body_ present. Finally, the Knight rapped a fist on a particular stone. "_There_ it is. Step back, now…"

With a shriek of metal the Knight unsheathed his sword again, and brought it high above his head. He plunged it into the stone on the wall with a forceful grunt, crushing the solid brick into dust. They saw a hazy light shoot out through the few cracks before the Knight drove his sword into the wall twice more. On the third try the wall before them collapsed inward, resulting in what resembled a roughly rectangular doorway.

"Well, there you 'ave it. I'd widen it a bit more, you understand, but I fear my strength's been gone some two 'undred years, now." It then stepped to the side, motioning toward the entrance with a steel hand.

Ron stepped forward apprehensively, peering within the gaping hole in the wall. Inside he could see a pale white light coming from some torches lining the corridor, rife with cobwebs and dust. He turned to Hermione, who stood in amazement behind him. "Ladies first?"

She gave him a lop-sided grin, shaking her head. "Not a chance." 

Climbing over the rubble which rose to almost his full height, Ron jumped through nervously. Landing in a squat, he then turned to Hermione in order to help her down. Behind them Fred all but pushed George through first, then followed suit. "You four 'ave yourselves a good time, now!" the Knight called after them, "I'll just be standin' here…waiting for you to come back…take your time, really…"

Fred glanced over his shoulder nervously, hoping the Knight didn't decide to follow them. They soon rounded a corner, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Bit of a nutter, wasn't he?" he commented to George, who nodded slightly. "Mm, just a _wee_ bit, yes." 

As they walked on the light began to grow dimmer, until they each had to draw their wands and light them. Ron unfurled the Map in the meantime, checking their course. Noting this, George asked impatiently, "Are we there _yet_?" Ron smiled, shaking his head.

"Not even _close_. I'll be sure to let you know when we're near."

George sighed. "Well, I will admit that this _is_ better than having to serve detention with McGonagall. It _was_ less…_dusty_ in her classroom, I have to say," he remarked, swatting at a cobweb that neared his face, "though not by much." With that Ron took a long, good look at the Map before he tucked it away, and lead the small party down the seemingly endless maze of corridors. 

A few paces behind Ron, Hermione walked along only half-aware of where her feet were taking her. Inside she was numb, a pit of growing despair deep within her. Her only hope was that Draco would have any information on Harry's whereabouts…_if_ they found him alive. 

* * * * * *

Within the barren cell, Harry scooted himself into the nearest corner as the Death Eater neared. Suddenly the cloaked man disappeared, apparating back only moments later with Goyle by his side. Each withdrew wands from their respective robes, uttering _"Lumos."_ Harry then saw the unlit candles that lined the cell walls flame to life when individually touched by the Death Eaters' wands. For some reason, creating a light source within the room didn't comfort Harry in the least bit.

He looked up as the Death Eaters encroached on his space, faces obscured by their cloak hoods. "I'm not afraid of you," he spoke defiantly, wondering himself just who he thought he was kidding. One of them laughed derisively. 

"Oh, no? You'll feel _much_ differently about that in just a little while, we'll make sure of it." He reached forward and tore off the sweater Harry wore, and then the overshirt, leaving only his T-shirt on underneath. "Can't have any extra padding, now can we?" They both chuckled, tossing the clothes aside. The same Death Eater then reached down and hefted Harry up by the front of his shirt, shoving the smaller figure against the wall as he held tight.

"All of this can be avoided if you'd simply accept the Dark Mark as your own."

"I'd rather _die_ than become one of _you_," Harry spat in disgust.

The Death Eater, Crabbe, hissed menacingly into Harry's ear. "We'll just have to see if you're one to stand behind his convictions, _won't we_?" 

Harry gritted his teeth as he shouted back in Crabbe's face. "I will _not_ be broken by the likes of you. Not _now_, not _EVER_!" 

Crabbe spun around and slammed Harry onto the floor. The Death Eater dropped to his knees beside him, shaking an angry finger at the younger wizard. "You bloody Gryffindors think you're so _damned_ self-righteous--" Harry eyed the finger inches from his face, and in retaliation lunged forward and bit into it.

The larger man hissed in pain, his face twisted with livid anger behind the cloak. He brought his finger close for inspection, which was now indented with reddened incisor marks. With clenched teeth he addressed his partner, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "_Hold him_." Harry was hoisted up by the front of his shirt again onto his feet. From behind did Goyle pull him into a crushing embrace, arms like a vice atop his chest. 

Harry scarcely had time to flinch before Crabbe rammed his clenched fist directly into the center of the boy's glasses, snapping the frame across the bridge of his nose. Once the two halves had clattered broken and mangled to the floor, he continued to hammer his knuckles repeatedly into Harry's face. Harry gasped in anguish when he felt his nose break, screaming when Crabbe backhanded him across it with his fist a moment later.

Once the Death Eater had stopped, he dismissively waved a hand towards his restrained captive. Goyle then removed his arms and stepped away, leaving Harry to crumple backwards. He gasped and sputtered when he felt blood trickling down the back of his throat, pooling in his gullet. Panic set in when Harry began to choke on it, unable to take in a decent breath of air without his lungs filling with the thick fluid. Once he got his senses back in order, he was allowed unheeded to roll over onto his side to spit it out. Wiping at his blood-flecked lips, Harry then felt himself being lifted up off the ground again, but not by human hands.

Goyle and Crabbe stood a few feet away from Harry as he was suspended in mid-air by Crabbe's wand. He hadn't even heard him command the spell, though he reckoned it was somewhere along the lines of '_Mobilicorpus_.' He floated awkwardly, like a marionette being puppeteered without strings. Goyle approached, and even though Harry couldn't see him clearly, he heard the larger man giving his knuckles a good crack.

"Do me a favor, lad," Goyle asked, "and try not to lose consciousness. It's really quite impossible to hear you scream when you're out cold." With the first blow to his abdomen, Harry was surprised that he didn't go sailing across the room. Instead, he stayed right where he was, suspended nearly two feet off the floor as if he had been strung up by some invisible rope. He bit hard onto his bottom lip until it split open as he was punched in the kidneys, refusing to utter even a single sound for them. The longer he held out, the harder and faster Goyle's fists came. Rolling with the punches was soon realized to be a futile effort, Harry's movements too slow to deflect the blows. He even tried to kick his attacker in the face, but wasn't fast enough. After a few minutes of this Goyle stepped back, his chest heaving with exertion.

Harry's breath came in short, wheezing gasps, as he tried his best to curl up protectively in mid-air. As Harry fought to stay conscious, he felt Goyle squeeze an unforgiving hand around his throat and jerk him forward. Though his vision was blurred, even a blind man could tell the Death Eater was seething in anger.

"Why aren't you _SCREAMING?!_"

Harry said nothing and simply glared. Goyle then released his grip, belting him across the face with a fist. The hooded man then withdrew his wand, thrusting it deeply into the hollow of Harry's throat. Harry's breathing became more labored than it already was as his heart raced in fear.

Then, all in one breath, did Goyle shout, _"Crucio! Crucio! CRUCIO!"_

The Cruciatus Curses tore into Harry instantly, the agonizing pain wrenching his body into various contortions. Head thrown back, his shrieks reverberated deafeningly against the walls of his prison, no doubt making their way to Voldemort's ears. Although he thrashed about wildly in the air, he never once budged from where Crabbe's wand held him solidly in place. Only when the effects of the curse began to ebb could he hear the sounds of his heart-wrenching sobs, now mingling with the sharp ringing in his ears. 

No sooner had he been able to suck in a gasping breath when the second of the curses began its course anew. Again Harry's body convulsed torturously, his wails more pitiful by the second. He managed to scream a few words to his torturers, but they fell upon deaf ears.

"_NOT AGAIN! PLEASE!"_

Harry wanted nothing more than to pass out, ram his head into the stone, or even die by the time the third curse picked up immediately after the last left off. 

__

"NOOOOO!" After that, Harry had no more air left with which to scream. Simply trying to breathe was agony in itself, the convulsions rendering him asunder. Then, finally, the series of curses ended as Goyle's wand lowered. Harry was only aware of the hot tears clouding his vision even further, and the feeling of something warm and wet trickling from his ear. He saw Goyle clasp Crabbe heartily on the shoulder and give him a slight nod before finally exiting the cell. 

Crabbe then raised his wand up suddenly, causing Harry to careen into the ceiling with a muffled cry. An instant later the wand was pulled away altogether. Already blinded by pain, Harry was thankfully unaware when he was dropped to the floor from twelve feet in the air, a few bones crunching sickeningly as he landed. 

It was quite apparent to Harry in the instant before he passed out that neither Voldemort nor Death Eaters were going to hold _anything_ back this time around. 

* * * * * *

Within Hogwarts, a lone figure snuck about the Owlery quietly, not wishing to disturb the resting birds. Approaching a tawny, medium-sized owl chosen for its inconspicuous markings, the figure roused the bird from its near slumber with a gentle shake. With a low hoot it blinked open its eyes, piercing with curiosity those of the one who had woken it. 

Ruffling the disgruntled owl's feathers calmed it down somewhat, and it then allowed without protest for a parchment to be fastened with a leather strand to its leg. Testing the security of the loose knot, the sender picked the winged creature up and carried it to the open window. The sense of urgency emanating from its sender was not lost on the owl as it prepared to take flight. With another hoot it was off, beating its wings silently against the gentle breeze.

Hands on the window sill, Dumbledore watched as the bird rose to greet the full moon before it sped off into the night. He could only pray that his call for help would be answered in time.

* * * * * *

__

Dong…

Dong…

Dong…

Hermione sighed softly as she counted out the rest of the late night bells, their chimes faintly echoing against the walls of the chamber she and the Weasleys were currently occupying. The Map had led them there after the four had wound their way through one corridor and tunnel after another, only to end up within an inner chamber roughly the size of the Gryffindor Common Room. 

Even though the Map displayed both theirs and Draco's names nearly one atop the other, the latter was nowhere in sight. 

"Draco? Draco? Can you hear us, Draco?" she called out to the otherwise empty room surrounding them.

"Oy, Malfoy! Where're you hiding? Maybe they walled him up alive--"

"George!"

"Alright, maybe he was already _dead_ when they walled him up. Feel better?" 

Hermione ignored this last comment, looking over Ron's shoulder to glance at the Map. "I don't understand," the youngest of the boys sighed, "he should be right _here_." To punctuate his words he pointed his finger at the empty space where Draco should have stood.

Fred glanced around the room, then cocked an eyebrow in confusion at the Map. "And it shows he's moving--_reallllly_ _sloooowly_, but still moving. Only there's nowhere else to go." George began to circle the room, swiping and grasping at the empty air around him every so often. "Maybe he's wearing an Invisibility Cloak--"

Ron huffed in exasperation. "Even if he was, he'd have to be _right here_," he said, stamping his foot upon the floor.

As the three Weasleys continued to study the parchment, Hermione noticed something on the ground move from the corner of her eye. Bringing her attention to the floor, she watched the something move again, a small, minuscule creature she had never seen before.

Shaking his head, Ron scrutinized the Map with a sigh. "Maybe there's a hidden _door_, or something, that we'll find by pressing on some bricks," he shrugged, nodding at the wall. "It worked for the Knight--" Not quite paying attention to what her friend was saying, Hermione watched in horror as Ron raised his foot to take a step forward, the shadow of his boot hovering like an eclipse over the small entity…

She had only time to gasp before she propelled herself forward, shoving Ron backwards quite forcefully. "Her_mione_--!" He landed in a heap within Fred's arms, who quickly hoisted him aside. "I've told you before, Ron, you're _not_ my type--" He was interrupted by George's hand atop his shoulder, who gave it a slight squeeze. 

"What, and _you_ are?" Fred's laughter was cut short as he met his brother's eyes, fixed with fascination upon the ground near where Ron's foot had been. Fred turned to stare as well, his eyes slowly growing wide in disbelief.

Whatever Ron had been about to step was picked up and placed on Hermione's outstretched palm. With a bewildered yet amazed expression she brought her hand forward to give the Weasleys a better look. All three gasped, not quite believing their eyes. 

"You've _got_ to be kidding me," George grinned with a surprised laugh.

"I wouldn't believe it if I weren't here looking at it," Fred remarked in amazement.

Ron only squinted in confusion. "How in the _hell_ did _that_ happen?!"

The dumfounded expressions gracing the countenances of the four friends was quite easily understandable, for standing rather unsteadily atop Hermione's palm was a two-inch tall and equally shocked Draco Malfoy.

____________________

Ah, the plot thickens…Muah-ha-ha-ha-haaaaa…and so does the gratuitous use of ellipses……….

And an explanatory note, if you will: I'm not really sure if glasses do in fact break that easily when hit, as I'm not about to do "research" and ask a complete stranger to punch me right 'tween the eyes to find out. You'll just have to take the word of the all impotent, I mean, _omnipotent_ author on this…unless anyone has had first-hand experience, that is.

And gracias mucho for the reviews! SIXTY! Ay Carumba! ~8] Oh, and the title? Its translation is "Search and Rescue." See? It would have been too obvious in plain old _ingles_, so, I've done gone and wrote it in es-pan-ol.

****

Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Je suis le Vampire Lestat! Tarawen! Iris Iolani! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer! Breea! Lassy D! Kim! Urania! Quoth the Raven! Melanie! Katma! AAAANNNNNDDDDD Mel! c|~8]


	19. The Proposition

Sigh I knew I couldn't keep up the pace for long. Yep. You guessed it. It's my fanfic-writer's mandatory leave of absence notice :[ Not by choice mind you, but circumstance. Next week is graduation, and I've been informed that I'm rooming with one relative in my room (she goes to bed early, so I can't stay UP and write), and another one is going to be in our computer room, which leaves out the computer for about a week or so…AAAHHHH!! What'm I gonna do? What'm I gonna do? Okay, okay, I'm okay, it's just a week, it's just a week…AAHHH!! Wow, I'm already having drawback symptoms…

So, what I'm getting at is I won't be able to post another chapter until probably around the 25th or so (EEEP!!!), maybe sooner if I can steal into the computer room and upload a story while my aunt's sleeping ;) Hah, hah! Even I'M not that obsessive…_or_ AM I??? Until then, here's the latest chapter. Oh yeah, and the second part's a bit long, but hey, y'all don't mind, do you? Of _course_ not… ~8]

____________________

Disclaimers: I don't own these properties, but if the fifth book isn't out by next summer, then I claim rights. I can do that, can't I? Whines I _knew_ I should'a been a Law student…

****

Chapter 19: The Proposition (ten points to your house if anyone can tell me what the significance of that title is being in a Harry Potter fic! Ah hA!)

Although several minutes had passed, Ron continued to stare wide-eyed at the miniaturized Draco. The tiny figure wavered slightly atop Hermione's palm, its little mouth hinged open in shock. Ron resisted the strong urge to simply _flick_ the Slytherin across the room, but reluctantly decided against doing so. George, on the other hand, wasn't so keen on keeping such thoughts to himself as he peered intently at the small figure.

"Can we quash him now?"

Hermione made a face and gasped at the horror of the idea. Swinging her palm around and out of George's reach, she nearly knocked Draco off in the process. Instead the Slytherin fell back, dazed. She eyed him curiously as he struggled to stand back up, and gasped again as he began to shake an angry fist at her.

"HA! Look at 'em go!" Fred laughed, not bothering to hide his amusement at the situation, "He looks like a ruddy wind-up toy!"

Although Malfoy's mouth was moving, no words were coming out because of his size--his lungs and vocal cords simply weren't large enough to carry his voice to those around him. When he finally motioned to Hermione with a tiny yet discernible rude gesture, she jerked her hand to the left, knocking him off balance again. "That'll teach him," she muttered, right before she let out a startled cry.

"OW!"

Laying on his stomach, Draco looked up and glared at Hermione after he'd bitten into the fleshy part of her palm. Ron sighed, moving to pick him up by the back of his robes. "Let me see 'em," he sighed, dangling the Slytherin at eye level betwixt his thumb and forefinger. "Knock it _off_, Malfoy, or I'll feed you to Hermione's _cat_," Ron threatened, not caring if Draco could hear him or not. In response the tiny Slytherin began to flail his arms and legs, aiming to kick at Ron's nose. He soon tired himself out, however, and Draco went limp.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell, _now_ what?" 

Placing her hand under Ron's, Hermione carefully collected the prone figure and placed him on the ground. "Stand back," she said tersely, her voice now tinged with worry. Giving her wand a graceful _swish_ and _flick_ motion, she declared, _"Reducio!"_

The tiny figure on the ground before them swelled instantly to its normal size, sprawled flat on his back. It wasn't until then did the Gryffindors realize just how haggard their classmate looked, his normally pale complexion now a sickly ashen gray. 

Ron knelt near Draco, his ear close to the other boy's mouth as he listened for breathing sounds. Satisfied when he saw the slight rise and fall of his chest, he tried to gently shake him awake. When that didn't work he began to lightly slap his face, calling his name. "Malfoy? Can you hear me? Wake up, Malfoy, we haven't got all day…" Failing to rouse him, Ron glanced at Hermione and his brothers before withdrawing his wand.

"Let's see if I can't ennervate him--" Ron gasped as a hand suddenly clenched around his throat, pulling him close to the body on the floor. 

The Dragon had awakened.

"Where…_is_…he?" the Slytherin's voice rasped, his bloodshot eyes pried open wide.

"…_who_…?" Ron choked out.

Draco dug his fingers in deeper. "_Potter…where's…Potter?!"_

Ron clawed at Malfoy's hand, whose grip was unrelenting. "Let…_go_--"

__

"Stupefy!" 

Ron watched as Draco's arm slid to his side with a thud, unconscious once again. Taking a deep breath he turned to Fred, whose wand was still aimed at Malfoy. "Thanks." Fred shrugged in response. "Anytime. I've always _wanted_ to do that. Actually, I've always wanted to turn him into a Clabbert, but I suppose this'll do for now." 

Standing up, Ron adjusted his robes. "Right. I suppose we should conjure up an invisible stretcher now?" Hermione shook her head. "No, it'd be too difficult to maneuver him through the corridors. They were tight enough as it was with just the four of us."

"How about _Mobilicorpus_? Then we'd be in complete control," George suggested. Hermione smirked, shaking her head again. "What, so you can 'accidentally' run him into a few walls along the way? I don't think so." George shrugged as he thoughtfully studied the prone figure. A few moments later he brought his head up, a wide grin spreading across his features.

"Who's to say we can't go about this the _easy_ way?" he asked.

Ron glanced at him, slightly confused. "Surely you don't mean to _apparate_ him. We haven't the ability _or_ the license--" George shook his head, grinning. 

"No, no, of course not. I mean, would it be so terrible if we just miniaturized the bugger again, until we got him to the Infirmary?" He hitched up the right side of his robes, tugging at his pants' pocket. "Look, he'd fit right in. And there's not _too_ much lint in there, so it's not like he'd suffocate, or anything--"

"Won't he wake up?" Hermione asked doubtedly, though inside she was thoroughly considering the idea. George nodded his head towards Malfoy. "What, him? I shouldn't think so. He'd have probably been out 'till Thanksgiving if Ron hadn't ennervated him," he assured her.

Hermione glanced to Ron, his arms crossed against his chest. "He's right, you know," Ron sighed, looking up at his friend, "it'd be a lot quicker getting out of here, and the sooner he wakes up, the sooner he can tell us what he knows about Harry." Satisfied, Hermione nodded in agreement, not actually believing she was approving of their rather unorthodox method. Something still bothered her, though.

"Wait, if Draco thinks the _real _Harry did this to him, it's impossible. We haven't even _learned_ about human transfiguration yet, if that's in fact what caused this. I'm not even sure of what the spell is--" Fred held up a finger. "No, but _we_ do," he smiled, nodding at George. "McGonagall taught it to us not too far back. I think we'll manage."

__

'Manage?' She sighed, a brief smile wavering uncertainly on her face. Turning to George, she asked, "Would you like have the honor, then?"

George grinned devilishly, his wand aimed and at the ready before she even asked. 

__

"Duodecrescium!"

Instantly Malfoy shrank to his previous size, no larger than George's index finger. When George moved to pick him up, Hermione hesitantly stepped in front of him. "Erm, perhaps I'd better 'pocket' him…just in case." George laughed loudly at this. "You don't trust me, do you?" 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of _course_ I trust you, George! It's just…well, my pockets have _less_ lint in them than yours. It'd be safer. For him. To let _me_ carry him, that is. Not so much dust, you know." Without another word, a slightly embarrassed Hermione knelt down and scooped up the tiny Malfoy once more, oblivious to the glances being passed amongst the Weasleys. Instead of shoving him into her pocket, she held him cupped in her hands, held near her as she led the way out of the chamber.

Ron sighed as he followed closely behind his brothers. "First Snape, then Malfoy. I'm telling you, mates, she's falling for all the wrong sorts of people nowadays." Without even turning around, Hermione called out, "I can still hear you, Ron!" 

Ron blushed, nearly colliding into the wall when Fred nudged him playfully in the ribs as the younger Weasley made his way to the front. Map in hand, he tossed a glance at Draco in passing, wishing more than ever that he could just give him a good hard _flick_ across the room.

* * * * * *

He wasn't sure how long he had been out, but when Harry awoke he found himself extremely exhausted. The effort he had exerted in his earlier struggle, as well as the toll the Cruciatus Curses had taken on his body finally caught up with him. He lay with one hand stretched above his head, the other encircling his chest to stifle the movement of his cracked ribs. Moaning quietly he brought his hand up to his face, gently prodding the swollen bruises that had recently manifested. Even the slightest pressure on his broken nose caused tears to well up in his eyes.

Finally he forced himself up onto his knees, only to realize that the bones in one of his ankles had snapped in his fall. Harry fell forward onto his chest with a hiss of pain, gently twisting himself around into a sitting position. His back against the wall, he brought his good leg up into his chest, and laced his fingers atop his knee. As satisfactory a pillow that he was going to get, he laid his forehead atop it, willing himself to try and get some sleep.

It wasn't much later when the Death Eaters finally came to collect him from his cell. He eyed them warily when they entered, unable to focus on their hooded faces. "Get up, Potter," one commanded with a voice that Harry hadn't heard since…_that night, in the graveyard_... "Our Master is ready for you once more." Harry glared, absently rubbing his ankle.

"I can't. _Somehow_ my ankle _got_ broken." With a wave of his wand, the Death Eater commanded, _"Reparo Talosus."_ Instantly Harry's ankle was healed, as was his nose that had been shattered by Crabbe's unyielding fist. He was then lifted up onto his feet, where he turned with an outstretched hand to search behind him blindly. 

"Wait! I need my glasses--" The Death Eater shoved him across the threshold of the cell in response. "You'll have time enough to get them when you come back later. Now _move_ it." Harry gulped audibly at the Death Eater's reply as they neared the staircase. _On the other hand, it means I'm not going to die **just** yet…_

Harry stumbled up the steps as he was goaded along, unable to judge the distance between them without his glasses. Nearing the top, he stumbled over a step, lurching forward suddenly. His head struck against the concrete step, gasping as he felt another gash forming. Harry then mused bitterly that this was perhaps the first time in his life that he actually _wanted_ to see Madame Pomfrey. He was just as quickly jerked to his feet again, then dragged up the last remaining steps.

Harry winced against the sudden bright light, guessing they were back in Voldemort's chambers. Sure enough, he was thrown at the Dark Lord's feet moments after entering. Hauled to his knees, Harry felt himself begin to tremble as he was placed under Voldemort's gaze. Even without glasses, Harry was close enough to the other wizard to ascertain by his expression that he was _quite_ pleased with what he saw.

Bent over, Voldemort slowly examined Harry's battered body, taking in all the cuts and gashes which marred his now bloodstained features. "Goyle and Crabbe always do _such_ an excellent job," he mused almost reverently, admiring a particularly dark bruise on Harry's cheekbone, "but, then again, they don't have _quite_ the ability that I do, wouldn't you agree?" Harry remained silent, his unwavering stare confronting Voldemort's.

The Dark Lord stood up straight, taking out his wand. Harry watched it closely, wary of its every movement. Noting this, Voldemort sighed. "_Do_ relax, Potter, there will be no unwarranted punishment…not _yet_, anyway. I've brought you up from your cell for a reason. There's a certain matter I'd like to discuss with you."

Idly fingering his wand, Voldemort began to slowly pace in front of Harry. "Would you like to achieve greatness, Potter, I mean _truly_ achieve greatness, based not on who you are, but what you've become?" Jaw clenched, Harry remained silent. "Still not talking, are we? No matter. It was a foolish question, after all--of _course_ you'd like to become the greatest wizard who ever lived, more powerful than Dumbledore or myself, even. Who wouldn't?"

Parting his lips, the voice that came from Harry sounded cracked and bitter. "_I_ wouldn't." 

Voldemort smiled in surprise, the action pulling his thin, bloodless lips taut across his face. "Oh, no? I find that _very_ hard to believe." Harry narrowed his gaze in response.

"It's the truth. Why would I _ever_ want to become a power-hungry murderer like _you_? You call yourself a great wizard, yet you've done _nothing_ great for our world _or_ that of the Muggles. Albus Dumbledore--"

"_Albus Dumbledore_ is the greatest _fool_ who ever lived, nothing more," Voldemort interrupted tersely, straightening to his full height. He had also stopped his pacing, glaring down at Harry once again. "_Albus Dumbledore_ could have had _everything_, but he chose the _wrong_ side to ally himself with when the initial battlelines were drawn so _many_ years ago. Now he sits idly behind a desk in his last days, conjuring up _lesson plans_ for ignorant whelps such as yourself instead of ways in which to eradicate the muggles and the half-breed _mudbloods_ once and for all. How can he be the greatest when his own _students_ aren't afraid of him?!"

"You fear him," Harry stated matter-of-factly, quite amused when the opposing wizard ruffled visibly at the remark.

"You're _wrong_--it is not _him_ I fear, but his abilities, for he is my equal on the battlefield. I speak of wizards so great and powerful that the mere _mention_ of their names causes the masses to quake with fear. _That's_ the power I speak of, Harry, the greatness that _I_ can help you achieve, if you were to accept my tutelage in the Black Arts…" he paused, his cold eyes chilling Harry to the spine, "…along with the Dark Mark." 

Before Harry could protest, Voldemort held up his hand to silence him. "Before you answer, I'm willing to offer you an…_exchange_, of sorts." He eyed Harry's reaction, a mixture of curiosity and disgust. Voldemort then brought attention to his wand, which he now twirled between his fingers. "Did you know that which can take life _away _can also give it _back_?" he asked, glancing at Harry.

"What are you getting at?" Harry asked as he eyed the wand, not quite sure what Voldemort was leading up to. 

"_This_. You give me what _I_ want most, in this case your allegiance, and I'll give you what _you_ want most--" From where he stood Voldemort muttered a few words under his breath, and flicked his wand across the room. Harry spun around on his knees, a faintly shimmering image twice his height appearing before him. He squinted furiously to see what it was, only able to make out small details here and there. He needn't have looked any longer, because a soft voice soon answered his question.

"…_Harry_…"

Harry swallowed thickly around the sudden lump in his throat, scrambling to his feet. "…_Mum?_" He now stood mere inches from the faces of his parents' ghosts, their hands reaching out to him. Harry shakily drew his hand forth towards the spectral images.

In the instant his fingers brushed against his mother's frigid yet solid palm did Harry gasp loudly, recoiling his hand to his chest. Clutching at where his heart thudded madly, he turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut. "You're lying," he called to Voldemort, unable to hide the tears in his voice.

"You have to trust me, Harry, I can make this happen for you. Just give me your word--"

"No!" he shouted, "You're _lying_! _I_ _won't_ fall for some _parlor trick--_" It was the voice of his father that made Harry's tearing eyes snap open. "He's telling the truth, son. We can be a family again. I know it's a great sacrifice, but we can be together…_forever_." James' translucent form cupped a hand against his son's cheek, drawing him into an embrace. Harry began to shake his head, tearing away from his father as he whirled on Voldemort.

"This _isn't_ real! My parents would _never_ consent to me joining forces with you, no matter _what_ you offered me! This _whole thing_ is a _lie!_" he screamed, shaking fists clenched at his sides. Eyes flashing, Voldemort brought up his wand towards the images and quickly jerked it to the side. Harry turned and caught a glimpse of his mother's and father's faces briefly before the vision dissipated into a vaporous mist. 

Voldemort angrily strode over to Harry, backhanding him across the face in one fluid motion. Harry fell to his knees again, wiping at the blood from his split lip. The Dark Lord then grabbed Harry by the shoulders, violently shaking him as he spoke.

"_Was_ it all a lie, Harry? _Was it?_" His face then curled into a sneer, eyes flashing angrily. "Of course, you'll _never_ know, now, will you? Never know if I was telling the _truth_, never know the _happiness _you could've had, had you only listened to your _father_." Harry sank back defeatedly onto his heels when he was released, only to have a wand aimed at him a brief moment later. 

__

"Ennervate Infinitus." 

Perplexed by the spell and its lack of instantaneous effects, Harry eyed Voldemort warily. "What did you do to me?" he asked shakily, fear creeping on the edge of his words.

Voldemort smiled vindictively. "I've placed a perpetual awakening spell on you, whose effects are limitless, from what I've heard." He peered down at Harry, still unsure as to what had been done to him. "Close your eyes."

Harry's heart skipped at beat at the command, but reluctantly did so. The instant his eyes had closed however, they were snapped back open again. Panicking, he tried to shut them a second time, only to have the same thing happen. "Why can't I close my eyes? What've you _done_ to me?" 

Smiling coldly, Voldemort bent over until he was nose to nose with Harry, his breath hot against the boy's face. "Nothing much. Just a simple spell to insure you won't pass out so soon after what I'm about to _do_ to you." 

Voldemort suddenly dug his nails into Harry's jaw, effectively immobilizing the young wizard's head. "You've defied me once today, Potter, and that's _more_ than enough to warrant a lesson in pain. Also, your _stupidity_ and inability to place faith in others has just caused you to make, by far, the most _foolish_ decision of your _life_. I'm giving you one last chance, Potter: Will you or will you not _accept_ the _Dark Mark_?"

He slowly brought his middle and index finger up towards Harry's forehead, relishing the way in which his eyes closely followed their movement. Harry's eyes darted about madly as he thought about his answer. Then, in a small yet defiant voice, he replied, "…_no_." 

Harry's head jerked back as he screamed in anticipated pain. Voldemort clenched his teeth as his fingers pressed harder and harder onto Harry's scar. The young boy tried desperately to squeeze his eyes shut, but they remained open against his will. Tears clouded his vision even further, and he was unable to blink them away. He wanted more than anything to pass out cold, but instead he remained painfully conscious. He could only sob uncontrollably as Voldemort held his fingers in place, refusing to let up on the pressure.

"…_please stop_…" Harry cried out weakly in between shuddering breaths, and to his surprise, Voldemort did.

"_Stop?_ Not until you experience the _pain_ I went through when your _bitch_ mother so _foolishly_ decided to use herself as a shield _against _me!_"_ Harry was then backhanded with a closed fist before the pressure upon his scar resumed once more. He couldn't help but release another scream from his painfully sore throat, his eyes wide and unseeing as agony ripped through every nerve of his body. Harry felt his body begin to spasm, as he'd never been conscious that long under Voldemort's touch. Suddenly a pain like no other tore through his skull and a hot, blinding, light erupted before his eyes.

His scar had split open.

A piercing scream forced its way from Harry's mouth, shrill enough to rival that of any banshee on the isle. Harry could only moan weakly as he felt his eyes begging to roll back into his head. But, he was to have no such release. His hands uselessly clawed at that Voldemort had clenched around his jaw, hands shaking too badly to function effectively. When he felt blood begin to trickle down his cheek, the pressure finally released.

Harry whimpered in relief and slumped forward onto Voldemort, unable to maneuver his body anywhere else. His gasping sobs shook his frame, unable to take a decent breath of air. "…why…are you doing this…to me?" he cried, his voice rumbling from within the folds of the Dark Lord's robe. Voldemort gently grasped his shoulders and pushed him forward, looking at Harry in mock concern. 

"I'm sorry, have I _hurt_ you? Perhaps _this_ will make it feel better." Still holding onto him, Voldemort leaned in and lightly kissed Harry's scar, as would a caring mother. Harry's head snapped back as he shrieked in agony, the pain of the touch mirroring that of his Doppleganger. Voldemort pulled back, lips flecked with Harry's blood. Though the Dark Lord still held onto him, Harry sagged forward once more, his eyes locked onto Voldemort's as tears flowed heavily down his face. 

Voldemort grinned, his eyes flashing as he stared intently into Harry's gaze. Flicking his tongue out, Voldemort then licked the blood from his lips, savoring its rich taste. Harry turned his head and whimpered, averting his gaze in disgust. He then felt a finger gently swipe at his scar again. The young wizard watched as Voldemort studied his blood-slicked fingers intently, slowly rubbing his thumb and forefinger together as he relished in how the red fluid traced the outline of his fingerprints. Voldemort lowered his voice, his tone cold and menacing.

"Much like the esteemed Countess de Bathory will I bathe in your life's essence, child, and rise anew stronger and more formidable an opponent than ever before. Today's lessons in pain were only the _beginning_ of what you owe me for all those years of _suffering_ and _humiliation_ I've had to endure since that fateful night you entered into my very existence. I promise you that tomorrow, the _real_ blood games will begin."

Releasing Harry, he stood up, letting the half-conscious boy collapse forward onto the floor. He summoned for the two Death Eaters positioned outside the door, who promptly entered and moved to haul Harry back to his cell. Harry's eyes burned from the onslaught of stinging tears, and from being unable to close them. Crossing the threshold of Voldemort's chambers, he heard the Dark Lord call out, "You could have had it all, Potter, but now you'll have _nothing_."

Harry took in a shuddering breath, fresh tears flowing from his eyes as he considered his words. 

___________________

Gee, was that brutal or _what?_ Bad Voldie, baaaaaad….

Okay, you got me. Some of those spells were made up (like you couldn't tell). Y'all are too smart for that ;) But, just for your info alone:

__

Duodecresium I got from the Latin (translation website, that is, so feel free to sue me for inaccuracies--or don't, 'cause I ain't got a dime on me) _duo_ or two (as in two-inches), and _descresio_ meant to decrease in size or make smaller. So, 'shrink to two inches,' essentially. And _Reparo Talosus_? Well, _reparo_ we all know, but _talus_ meant 'ankle bone' (how nice that they were so specific about it!) and _os_ bone, so I just kinda melded them into _talosus_. Can I even do that? Sure! It's fanfiction, where apparently _anything_ goes! Yay!!

Some of you have expressed worry that Harry will not be, how shall I say this?, _intact_ come the end of this story. Well, not to worry! This isn't a 'surprise' character death story, because if I don't return them to JKR the way in which they were lent to me (i.e. not folded, spindled, or mutilated), then she just might sue me on the grounds of child abuse and neglect. Or not, 'cause it's late, and that sounded like a good reasoning, no? Heh. Suuuure it did….::just nod your head slowly and walk away backwards:: ~8] And no, I haven't forgotten about the Doppleganger, in case y'all were wondering. He's still lurkin' about somewhere…Muah-ha-ha!!!

Annnnd (Good Goddess, this is long…) as for who the Countess de Bathory is, well, I haven't time or the place really to explain it here (although I really, really want to!), but I will in the next A/Ns, unless you wanna email me and I'll just tell ya there. Oh, and if you've noticed that Voldemort's snake-like lisp has gone away, well, it has--for now anyway. Too much trouble with the spellcheck, and I swear if I took the time to put the extra 's's in all the right place my eyes would fall out if after writing all that…GAK!

OOHH, look! The "**Bold** and the Beautiful"! Tee hee!

****

Rolllll Calllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Je suis le Vampire Lestat! Tarawen! Iris Iolani! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer! Breea! Lassy D! Kim! Urania! Quoth the Raven! Melanie! Katma! AAAANNNNNDDDDD Mel! 


	20. Patience

I'm BAA-AACK!  Yeah, yeah, I know…._finally_.  I figure since my last chapter I've graduated college, took the mandatory post-college trip to New Orleans, saw, nay, _participated_ in my first Jimmy Buffet concert, learned to kayak, and started my first real-live archaeology job.  Yay!  Unfortunately, I didn't seem to have any time to write story chapters.  Boo!  Anyhoo, I'm back, and unless Fanficnet goes down again I hope to have these to you every other week or so, depending on what I get written on the weekends.  And 'Thanks!' to all those lovely new people who have reviewed the story--and not one of them a flame!  Woo-hoo!  So, to ensure that there isn't a flame outbreak, here's the next chapter.  Hope it was worth the wait!  ~8]  

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Disclaimers:  It's been awhile, and you may have forgotten, so see Previous Chapter…snicker

**Chapter 20:** **Patience**

Ron rubbed irritably at his sore eyes as he and the other three Gryffindors continued to walk onward through the seemingly never-ending tunnel, the light atop the wand held before him piercing the obsidian darkness surrounding them.  With a heavy sigh did Ron pause momentarily, holding the lit wand near his watch in order to better read the position of its hands in the unearthly glow. 

It would be daybreak soon.

As he and the others silently retraced their route back through the winding passages of the guarded tunnel, the youngest of the present Weasleys couldn't help but think about just how much had changed over the past week's time.  Only days before had he threatened Malfoy more seriously than he had anyone in his entire life, and now he was an accomplice to his rescue, of all things, doing his best to make sure the Slytherin was alive and well when they eventually returned to the Infirmary.  And it had only been but a few hours ago that Harry had been taken from them, now presently somewhere unknown to his closest friends and perhaps even his Headmaster, probably being tortured from his very life.

Even though he hated to think on it, Ron had no real choice but to let his mind wander there, as nothing else at the moment chose to infiltrate his thoughts.  A voice from behind soon saved him from enacting another horrible scenario in his mind.

"You realize that one of us has to go tell Snape about this," Hermione suggested, "he _is_ the head of Draco's House, after all.  I think it'd be best if we split up, so none of us has to face him _alone_."

Ron nodded affirmatively without losing cadence.  "That's an excellent idea, Hermione."  Before anyone else could respond, he quickly called, "Not it."

Hermione soon followed suit, declaring herself to be "Not it."

Stifling their smiles, they then heard two loud sighs from behind, followed by a "Bloody hell!" from one of the twins, Hermione wasn't quite sure which.

"Every _time_ he gets us, Fred, every _time_," George mused aloud.

No sooner had the impromptu decision been made when the four Gryffindors came upon the dimly flickering torch light which heralded the beginning of the tunnel.

Ron rubbed at his eyes again as they began to adjust to the light, picking up his pace as he caught sight of the tunnel's makeshift entrance.  First extinguishing the light on his wand, he climbed up onto the fallen rocks that served as footstools in order to climb through the hole once more, silently praying that Tasso had left for the evening.  Jumping through to the other side, Ron did a quick search of the area for the decrepit and slightly bothersome knight.

Off to his left did Ron hear the sharp scraping of rusted metal coming to life, but only for an instant.  Somehow, even though the knight possessed no body to speak of any longer, Tasso had managed to lay himself down and fall asleep, shifting ever so slightly in his rest.  As a silent sigh of relief escaped Ron, he quickly turned back to the entrance hole to help Hermione through.  Hermione gave him a curious look as he pressed a finger to his lips as a forewarning to keep silent, and understood only as she climbed down from the jumble of rocks beneath her feet and looked over to see the knight's statue dozing soundly.  

Fred and George followed next, and their realization upon seeing the napping knight was followed by a silently mimicked high-five in the air.  They quickly caught up with Hermione and Ron, who were safely waiting in the next hallway over.  What neither Gryffindor nor Slytherin saw, however, was the magickal realigning of the bricks following their departure, Tasso standing up with a tired yawn as he once again took his place in front of the bricked-up passageway.

Upon meeting back up with Ron and Hermione, George crossed his arms and sighed.  "I don't suppose there's anyway to change your minds about this, is there?  We could work out a deal, you know, like twenty shares of _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes_ stock, _apiece_, mind you--" 

Ron shook his head slowly, grinning.  "Not for all the galleons in the world, George.  Sorry, it's a done deal."

"Oh, well," Fred replied, "at least we haven't the responsibility of carting 'bug-boy' here to the Infirmary.  You two'll surely be on Santa's _Naughty Boys and Girls_ list for carrying this one out." 

Hermione smiled with a roll of her eyes before she turned and began to walk down the hallway.  "Be careful, you two," she called over her shoulder with Ron at her heels, "you're going to need it!"  A mumbled response, no doubt a snide one, came from the elder Weasleys as they headed in the other direction.  It was heard by neither Ron nor Hermione, however, as they raced towards the Infirmary, Draco still unconscious in the palm of Hermione's hand.

* * * * * *

Alone in his cell, Harry sat huddled in one of its corners, knees drawn tightly to his chest by the arms that encircled them.  His head pounded furiously from Voldemort's earlier contact, his scar now painfully sensitive to even the slightest of proddings.  With his chin nestled just below his knees, Harry's eyes peeked over the tops of them as he stared unblinking at the entrance to his prison. He knew Voldemort would soon come back for him, only to torture him endlessly until Harry finally lie dead at the Dark Lord's feet. Until that happened did Harry chew on his lower lip in anxiety, his eyes wide as he kept a vigilant watch on the cell's large wooden door.

Harry couldn't forget the Dark Lord's words or the choice he had been propositioned with. Had Voldemort the power to do what he had promised would forever be a mystery to Harry, although even _he_ couldn't deny the solidity of his mother's hand when he touched it, or that of his father's when it reached to embrace him.  That which terrified the young wizard the most, however, was not the possibility that Voldemort might have actually been telling the truth, but the decision he would have made if the Dark Lord had displayed proof of his claims.

As fresh tears threatened to invade Harry's already cloudy eyes, he quickly dashed the thoughts from his head, blinking his vision clear.  Even though Voldemort had removed the _'Ennervate Infinitus'_ he had cast on Harry, the young man was too terrified to fall asleep, wary of being caught off guard by another Death Eater should he rest his eyes for even a moment's time.  He instead opted to remain gnawing on his lip as he kept an apprehensive eye on the cell door, his scar continuing to burn furiously all the while.    

*  *  *  *  *  *

Seated behind her desk in the morning stillness of the Hospital Wing, Poppy Pomfrey wiped a thumb across the face of her watch, wiping clear the smudge of ointment which had somehow managed to deface the small oval of glass during the night.  It was nearly eight a.m, and on a normal morning she would have just been arriving to her post, a cup of fresh brewed tea and the previous day's edition of _The Daily Prophet_ at her side.

As things would have it, however, it most certainly had not been a normal night, due to the sudden disappearances of Draco Malfoy and the Potter boy.  Minerva had seem quite distressed as she relayed the news to the nurse in her quarters, and since then neither she nor any of the other staff members had gotten a wink more of sleep.  And they wouldn't, as long as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a concern.

Poppy rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes, taking a sip of the tea she had brewed sometime in the night.  A quick taste of the tepid brown liquid was all that the nurse needed to confirm that it had most definitely overstayed its welcome.  Setting her already worn copy of _The Daily Prophet_ aside, she scooted her chair from the desk, set on brewing something more decent for her to drink.  No sooner had she stood up when the Infirmary doors flew open, and in ran Potter's friends towards the nearest bed.

She sighed heavily as they talked urgently to one another, carefully placing whatever the young witch had been holding in the center of the bed.  From across the room, the nurse couldn't believe her eyes.  _Surely they can't be serious…_

"Mr. Weasley," Madame Pomfrey said with another tired sigh, "I thought you had finally _rid_ yourself of that tattered old rat of yours.  Perhaps _ten years_ ago I might have been able to do something for it, but I guarantee you that there's nothing I can do for it now--"

Having been ignored completely, Poppy watched as the Gryffindor girl stood back and withdrew her wand.  With an urgent flick and a command of _"Reducio!"_ did the boy's 'rat' suddenly swell in size, and it was then that Madame Pomfrey gave a startled cry with the realization that it was not a rat at all which now occupied the bed, but the missing Slytherin boy. 

"You children will be the death of me yet," the nurse muttered as she hurried to the bedside, the removal of the tepid tea quite suddenly pushed to the bottom of her 'To-Do' list.****

"Would someone like to explain to me what's going on here?" Poppy asked as she approached the three.

"Draco was missing," Ron began in a rush of words, "so Dumbledore sent us to find him while he looked for Harry."

"While who looked for Harry?" the nurse queried.  "Dumbledore or--?" 

"Yes," Hermione answered curtly, "Harry had hid Draco in one of the guarded tunnels along the main corridor--"

"--Only it wasn't really Harry, but his double," Ron interrupted, "and so Dumbledore sent us to find him--"

"--Malfoy, that is.  Both Harrys were already missing," Hermione further explained, "so Dumbledore asked us to find--"

"--Mr. Malfoy.  _That_ I understand," the nurse sighed wearily, "but why are there _two_ Harrys, and how are you sure they're not one in the _same--_"

"--Because one is his _doppleganger_," Ron said exasperated, "and we think the _real_ Harry is with You-Know-Who."

"You mean…He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" Pomfrey said quietly.

Hermione nodded sadly.  "Right.  He's with _Voldemort_."****

Pomfrey sighed, shaking her head.  She then made a motion with her hands as if clearing the air.  "Alright.  You two," she said, pointing individually at Ron and Hermione, "are to go back to your dormitories and at least _try_ and get some rest.  I imagine you children must be exhausted by now."  When neither Gryffindor complained as they usually did when being ushered out of the Infirmary, she moved closer to the bedside.  "And while you're resting, I'll try my best to fix Mr. Malfoy here up and have him returned to his classes as good as new."  As she spoke she glanced the boy over, whose complexion looked more sallow than usual, the sounds of his breathing more shallow than Pomfrey would have liked.

When neither child moved, Poppy placed a hand on each of their shoulders, giving them a gentle push as she lead them towards the exit.  "Everything is going to be alright," she said softly, ignoring the looks of doubt in her charges' countenances, "if you fear the worst, then only the worst will happen.  Trust me."

With that both Hermione and Ron gave a small smile, exiting into the hallway as the nurse rushed to her lone patient's bedside.  The Infirmary doors shutting soundly behind them, Ron rolled his eyes.  "As if I _could_ sleep even if I wanted to."

"You're telling me," Hermione agreed.  She then glanced over her shoulder for a last look through the small window in the Hospital door.  "I really do hope he's going to be alright.  I wonder if Snape's on his way?"

"We could always check," Ron suggested, pulling out the Marauder's Map, "so we could make sure to go the _other_ way."

Hermione gave a small laugh, nodding.  "_Exactly_.  Let's see it."

Holding the Map before him, Ron quickly spotted the Potions Master, who was swiftly approaching from another direction.  He laughed when he also noticed Fred and George's names trailing behind him, though keeping their distance.  "There he is, right there.  See 'im?" he asked his friend, awkwardly pointing to the names with one hand as he attempted to keep the Map from rolling back up with the other.

When Hermione didn't answer immediately Ron glanced over at her, only to see that her eyes had suddenly grown quite large.  Snatching the Map from his hand, she smacked the center of the parchment flat against the wall with her hands, holding it so that he could see.

"Ron--_look!_"

The red-haired wizard followed his eyes away from his brothers and Snape to the tip of his friend's fingernail, which rested somewhere within the hallways of the second floor's Left Wing.  His mouth then dropped when he saw that it ever so clearly pointed to the name _'Harry.'_.

"It can't be…" Ron said in a near-whisper, looking up at Hermione for an explanation.

"That's because it isn't," the young witch replied as she shook her head, a slight tremor to her voice.  "It's his doppleganger."

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Alright, hope some of that was worth the wait.  We'll call this short chapter, "How the Fanfic Writer got her Groove Back."  More to come in the next installment, including some long-awaited Author's Notes, and "The Countess de Bathory:  Why Dove Soap Just Wasn't Doing it for Her."  If those sounded suspiciously like lecture titles, don't worry--I'm still trying to purge the last bit of schooling from my system, something which just might need an Exorcism after all.  Hasta! 

Oh, and since nobody got the importance of last chapter's title "The Proposition" being in a Harry Potter fic, I'll tell ya anyway:  a movie called "The Proposition" was made starring Kenneth Branagh, who will be--you guessed it--Gilderoy Lockhart in the next movie!…ah, no one cares anyway… ~8]

**Rolllllll Calllllll****:**** Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! The Female Vampire Lestat! Tarawen! Iris! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer! Breea! Lassy D! Kim! Urania! Quoth the Raven! Melanie! Katma! Mel! Stonehenge! Agent 99! SiriusBPadfoot! Oceansun! Joey! AANNNDDD Psychochick!  Yay!! ~8]**


	21. Decisions

Hokey-dokey.  Here be the next chapter.  (Sigh, only four months out of school and my English is failing already…)  Yes, yes, they are slow in coming, and I swear the rest is almost completed, except for a few…coughplotholescough.  Never fear, though, they will be filled with what I hope to be some rather interesting cement in the very near future.  If that didn't make a lick of sense, then, by all means, just skip to the actual story and ignore all that above the solid line below.  M'kay?  'kay.  ~8]

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Disclaimers:  I don't own them.  Honestly.  Because if I did, then the next movie would have been released yesterday, not two months from now.  What's that?  You haven't seen it yet because it hasn't been released?  My point exactly ~8]

**Chapter 21:  Decisions**

It wasn't until they were safely hidden from the prying eyes and ears of Snape, Filch, and (possibly the worst of the lot) Mrs. Norris, did Hermione think it was safe to speak aloud once again.  When she felt she could do so without a waver to her voice, she turned to Ron in the dimly lit corridor they had hunkered down in.

"What…what should we do?" the young witch asked quietly, her eyes looking pointedly at the Map.

Eyes still perfectly round in shock, Ron shook his head slowly.  "I-I don't know.  I mean, how do we know it really _isn't_ him?  If we get the teachers involved, it'll probably be _days_ before any of them could agree on what to do about it.  I mean, we've come this far without their help, right?"

Hermione nodded with a slight smile, quite pleased with what they'd accomplished in the past few days.  "Right.  And I'm sure Dumbledore doesn't need something else on his hands at the moment…"

"Ex_actly_."  Ron gave his wand a harsh squeeze, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the Map.  "We owe it to Harry, we do," he said quietly.

"We do."  

Ron chewed his lower lip contemplatively for a moment as he considered a plan of action.  If they were going to set about doing this themselves, then they had better do it right…He snapped out of his reverie, startling Hermione a bit.

"Alright, here's what we'll do," the red-haired Gryffindor began, "First, we sneak into the dormitories and grab Harry's Invisibility Cloak from underneath my bed.  I stashed it there earlier after we found it in the History classroom."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically in agreement.  "That's an excellent idea.  We're certainly going to need it later on." 

"And then second," Ron continued with a sigh, "…well, secondly I guess we'll cross our fingers, cross our toes, and follow that bastard wherever he goes."

Hermione gave a soft chuckle, shaking her head slightly.  "Couldn't have said it better myself, Ron."  Standing up from her crouching position, she turned to check the safety of the nearest hallway.  Assured that it was clear and free of unwanted obstacles, Hermione clutched her wand in hand.  "Alright, then," she said softly upon giving a small nod to Ron, "let's have at it, shall we?"

His heart thumping madly in his chest, Ron returned her nod.

"We shall."  

*  *  *  *  *  * 

Amongst his friends at the nightly Dinner Banquet, Harry Potter laughed loudly alongside Ron at the embarrassing dream that Hermione had just finished telling them about.

"That's the best I've ever heard, Hermione," Harry said to her once their laughter had died down, "but, honestly, you should hear the nightmare I had the other night--"

Harry was quite disturbed to find that someone, probably Malfoy, the little git, had begun hissing in his ear as began telling his story to his friends.  It wasn't the soft, almost comforting sound of 'white noise' as he'd often heard from his cousin's television set when his favorite program had been temporarily knocked off the air, but one of a harsh and disturbing nature…

Harry's eyes snapped open in the darkness of his cell, awakened by the constant noise.  A voice quickly brought him into the present. 

"Hello again, little one.  Did you missss me?"

As two crimson eyes suddenly flashed in the darkness, Harry determined his nightmare to be quite real indeed.

Stifling a startled gasp, Harry addressed the reptile in Parseltongue.  "Nagini.  Why are you here?"

The treacherous snake _tsked_ softly, its glossy body slithering closer to Harry across the smooth floor.

"Don't you remember?  I promised I'd be back.  Or don't you trussst me?"

_It's called a 'snake' for a reason…_Refusing to take the bait, Harry shifted uncomfortably.  "Kill me and Voldemort will have your head."

"Who said I wanted to _kill_ you?  I just thought we'd have a little fun together before you're sacrificed for the greater good of _our_ kind," Nagini explained in a tone reeking of false innocence.

"_Your_ kind?  And who would that be?" Harry spat angrily.  "Cowardly butcherers of the unarmed and the meek in the name of 'Madman Voldemort'--?"

A loud hiss interrupted Harry's tirade.  "Watch your tongue, boy, or I'll take extreme pleasure in _biting_ it off for you." 

Threatening the boy with a flash of its bared fangs, Nagini slithered underneath his crooked knee to come up between his legs, languidly winding itself around Harry's waist as he gave a slight shudder.  The young wizard had squeezed his eyes shut as he attempted to control his breathing, trying his best not to panic as the serpent made its way across his trembling chest.

Nagini caught a glance of Harry's expression before it slid around to the back of his neck, softly hissing in satisfaction of the terror it had caused to well up in its playmate.  The large snake then rested his head atop Harry's shoulder, flicking its tongue and issuing a long hiss mere inches from his ear.  When it noticed the boy sharply intake a breath did Nagini quickly contract its body, all but squeezing the air from Harry.  Harry gasped loudly, his eyes snapping open to look askance at his tormentor.

"You bloody little…_bastard_--"  Cut short, the young man released a strangled cry as the venomous reptile squeezed harder, so that the edges of Harry's vision began to redden.  

"Language, Potter," Nagini chastised before relaxing its muscles and its crushing hold.  Harry breathed in quickly, lest the snake choose to 'surprise' him again.  He then felt Nagini's head lift from his shoulder, circling around in an arc to meet him face to face.  

Fiery red eyes met those of jade, and without warning the serpent flicked its tongue across Harry's scar, causing him to jerk his head violently.  "Tender, are we?" Nagini taunted before another flicker of the forked tongue got the Dark Lord's pet a taste of Harry's blood.  Nagini sampled it as had its master before making his declaration.

"Fresssssh."

That single act left Harry feeling more violated and enraged than he had since his arrival, and turned his head slightly to angrily hiss at the serpent in Parseltongue.

"Don't _touch_ me!" yelled Harry through clenched teeth, and although his eyes flashed dangerously at the serpent snaked around him, a thin stream of tears born of anger and frustration had managed to leak out.  He wouldn't be able to mask his terror for long. 

Nagini replied by hinging its jaw open as wide as possible, baring glistening fangs as it released a loud and furious hiss from the back of its throat.  It then drew back before suddenly lunging forward, snapping its jaws closed a mere finger's breadth away from the tip of Harry's nose.  

Although Harry didn't so much as bat his widened eyes, the serpent gave another short hiss of satisfaction as it noted the increased flow of tears that slid down the boy's face.

"You don't fool me, boy," Nagini hissed quietly, "I can see quite clearly through your façade.  You may act brave like the wretched Gryffindor you are, or were, I should say, but don't think I can't feel you trembling with fear beneath me."   

The snake paused for a moment, leering at Harry.  "Or, are you trembling because you're enjoying this as much as I?"

As Nagini flicked its tongue to have another taste of the blood which ran in a thin line from Harry's scar, the young wizard violently flinched to the side before the snake could make contact.

"I said _no!_" Harry yelled furiously, only to be rewarded with the snake's crushing weight coiling around him tightly as before. 

"Hold _ssstill_, damn you!" 

Harry gasped for breath as he vainly struggled to wrench himself free of the serpent's grip, doing its best to crush the life from him before he could have his last dance with Voldemort.

Nagini only tightened its coils painfully as it hissed menacingly into Harry's ear.  "If you don't behave, whelp, then I'll summon a Death Eater in here to hold you down whilst I demonstrate my ability to wriggle my way into some pretty 'tight' situations!"  A loud whimper escaped Harry at the serpent's insinuation, and a new fear instantly gripped hold of him.  He stiffened as a wave of nausea immediately swept over him, causing Harry to vapor lock in the process.

As Harry's vision began to blur from lack of oxygen, he for no apparent reason thought back to all those times he had caused magic to stir within the Dursley household without a wand or similar conduit to focus his energy.  The same anger and frustration he felt now rivaled that he oftentimes experienced while living amongst Vernon's brood.  With that realization in mind, Harry focused his most malevolent of thoughts towards Nagini, in hopes that something would break the surging dam of energy that coursed through his body.  To be honest, Harry wasn't sure if it was energy or unbridled hatred that flowed through his veins, but nevertheless, something gave.

Harry was pulled forward slightly as Nagini's head jerked back, and the reptile released a loud and sudden hiss of pain.  The young wizard watched in surprise and curiosity as Nagini's head hung limply, its body uncoiling somewhat.  Sucking in a great lungful of air did Harry note the serpent's glazed eyes narrow before it spoke.  "That hurt, Potter," it hissed quietly, but before Harry could fully comprehend what had happened his thoughts were interrupted by the slow creak of the cell door as it was pushed open by the Death Eater standing guard.

"Come, Nagini," the guard ordered in Parseltongue, "Lord Voldemort wishes to speak with you."

Nagini twisted his head around angrily, hissing for effect.  "_Now?_"

"Yes, _now_."  The Death Eater's tone indicated that he didn't wish to be on the receiving end of Voldemort's wand when he returned _sans_ his beloved pet.

Turning once more to Harry, Nagini slowly looked him over a few times, muttering, "Decisions, decisions…"

"Nagini--"  The snake whipped its head around angrily, glowering at the impatient Death Eater.

"I said that I'm _coming_!"  Then, emitting what sounded to Harry like a sigh, the serpent uncoiled itself ever so slowly, relishing its last moments with its playmate.  It then slid across the floor dejectedly, muttering, "Another time, perhaps."

An instant after Nagini's tail slithered through the remaining crack in the door, it was slammed shut again, the brief glimpse of light gone for what Harry feared wasn't to be long at all.  He released a shuddering breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and the rush of air that left his body seemed to deflate him entirely of any sense of false bravado he'd had only moments before.  Suddenly light-headed from his unconventional use of magic, Harry thumped his head back against the wall, and feeling the blood from his scar trickling down his cheek, he wiped at it gingerly.  He paused, bringing blood-slicked fingertips closer to his face.

His hand had yet to quit shaking.  

The longer Harry stared at it, the more it appeared to him the representation of all that he had been subjected to in the last week.  Fetched from what all assumed was one of the safest places for Harry to be, he had been brought into what he could only think of as another, yet seemingly undiscovered circle of Hell, were there such a place.  He vaguely wondered where the monstrous demons with hot, prodding pokers that his aunt and uncle spoke frequently of were supposed to be, but considered Voldemort and his wand a thoroughly complete representation of what many Muggles had long-feared, but never seen.  

_And Nagini.  Nagini had threatened to…  _

Blocking the horrific thought from his mind, Harry brought his knees to his chest again, resting the elbow of the trembling arm atop his kneecap.  He then haltingly ran the offending hand through his hair, streaking the wet crimson stains through his jet black strands.  Head nestled against the crook of his elbow, Harry silently let the tears continue to flow uninterrupted down his face, leaving his eyes open lest he again fall asleep through what might be his last few moments alive.      

*  *  *  *  *  *

Even though the rest of the teaching staff was trying their best not to appear as chickens running about with their heads cut off as they attempted to quell the rumors of the students who were (supposed to be) sleeping, Albus Dumbledore sat quietly at his desk, the epitome of calmness, the eye of the storm.  Appearances, however, could be deceiving.  

The headmaster stood from his desk to gaze out the tall paned-glass window behind him, turning his eyes to the twinkling and pulsating stars visible in the blackened sky.  He was in the middle of extracting the importance of the night's planetary configuration when quite suddenly did the fireplace on the opposite side of the room erupt, and out stepped a figure, unharmed, from the blazing embers.

_Mars is in the fifth house…_

With a sigh directed towards the heavens, Dumbledore didn't even turn to face his Floo-powder transported guest.  He knew who it was.

"You came," Albus said matter-of-factly, not bothering to hide the slight tone of surprise to his words.

"As soon as I could upon receiving your post," the visitor replied rather indignantly.  "_What_ kind of _person_ do you take me for--" 

_…and Jupiter seems to be out of alignment…_

Holding his own tongue, Dumbledore interrupted his guest with a wave of his hand, motioning towards the empty chair positioned in front of his desk as he continued to study constellations and the like.  "Have a seat, won't you?  I'd advise you to make yourself comfortable.  We've got ourselves quite a bit to discuss--"

The man had scarcely sat down when he just as soon jumped to his feet in disbelief.  "_Discuss?_  There is _nothing_ to discuss, Albus, _nothing_.  As far as you're concerned, I was never here to begin with.  Now quit _wasting_ my time and tell me where he is!" 

Casually looking askance over his shoulder at the other man, the Headmaster ever so slightly narrowed his eyes.  "I should ask you the same thing, Lucius."

The hardened eyes of Lucius Malfoy bored into those of the Headmaster, whose were visible only for a brief second before he turned back towards the paned glass.

"Isn't _blackmail_ a bit beneath you, Albus?" he asked harshly.

Though his expression was hidden from the other man, Albus emitted a sound which sounded to Lucius much like a chuckle.

_…with an eclipse on the horizon?_

"Blackmail, Lucius?  Wherever did you get such a foolish idea?" Without turning could Dumbledore watch for the slightest change in his guest's facial expression, shifting his eyes from the night sky to focus on that being reflected behind him in the mirror-like glass of the window panes.  To his surprise there wasn't any, but only because Lucius was hiding his emotions well at that particular moment.  "I simply owled a letter to inform you of your son's disappearance," Dumbledore continued, "He's resting, by the way, in an Infirmary bed.  He was discovered not long ago by friends of Mr. Potter, incidentally.  Go and see him; there is nothing to stand in your way."

Lucius snorted derisively.  "Except my conscience, right, Albus?"  When the Headmaster didn't answer, Malfoy turned from his chair angrily as he began to storm out of the suddenly confining office.  "I won't stand for _any_ of this!  Potter is of no concern of mine, you Muggle-loving old _fool_--"

In one fluid motion did Dumbledore whirl away from the window, his robes repeating the motion to billow around him as he thumped his fists upon the desk, eyes unnaturally cold and hard.  "_Sit down_, Mr. Malfoy.  I will _not_ be insulted in my own office!"

Lucius all but stumbled backwards into the empty chair in front of the enraged Headmaster's desk, his visage more hardened than the younger wizard had seen in years.  He vaguely wondered if his son had ever listened to those same words come from Dumbledore's mouth, perhaps sitting in the same chair as he.  Lucius couldn't help but smile internally at the thought.

"We've another guest coming to join us, Lucius," Dumbledore said quite calmly as he instantly regained his composure, busying himself as he fixed a pot of chamomile tea, "so I would appreciate it if you wouldn't mind staying a bit longer."

Lucius watched his old headmaster curiously with a raised eyebrow as the older wizard walked from one side of the room to the other, fetching a pot of tea in one hand and a mortar full of fresh herbs in the other.  Not a trace of the livid man Lucius had encountered a moment ago remained.  Before he could think any further on it, Dumbledore suddenly stopped his process of tea-making and turned towards the office door.  

"Please, come in.  We've been expecting you," Lucius heard Albus address to no one in particular, since there never had been an audible knock on the door.  Lucius turned just as the thick oaken panel swung open briefly, and was quite surprised at the appearance of the Headmaster's visitor.  

"Severus," he welcomed with an icy smile, as the door clicked soundly behind his former colleague. 

It wasn't until he turned did Snape hear the oily voice of the Death Eater.

"Oh, _good_," the Potions Master replied with disdain, ignoring the Headmaster momentarily as he glared at the venomous smile of the man he had long ago learned to hate, "I see you haven't started the tea party without me."

"Please, Severus," spoke Albus with the slightest hint of forewarning, again waving a hand as he motioned the younger man towards the nearest chair.  Taking his own, Dumbledore then looked pointedly into the eyes of the seated men before restating his earlier claim.

"Gentlemen," he sighed tiredly, "we've much to discuss."

______________________

Ooohh…interesting.  Whatever will happen next?  And how did that naughty snake get in there?

::Shrugs Shoulders::  Well, don't look at me, ask the auth--ooohhh.  I get it…I'll get to work filling those plotholes now…

Meanwhile, enjoy these brief author's notes!

**The Countess de Bathory**:  Okay, this vague reference has been hangin' around for quite a few chapters now.  Nothin' special, just thought I'd throw her in for a good measure of creepiness.  See, back in the day (the early 17th century, to be exact), this Hungarian chick named Erzsebet (Elizabeth) Bathory had this nasty habit of torturing and then murdering over 600 women and young girls (virgins at first, I believe, and when they ran out she took whoever she could find) so that she could bathe in their blood.  Why?  Well, seems she got this wacky idea that their blood made her skin look younger and the essence of perfection, earning her the nickname "The Blood Countess" and causing her to be the inspiration for Bram Stoker's _Dracula_.  Was she the inspiration for this story?  Heck, nah.  Caffeine was. 

**Planetary Alignments**:  Surprise, surprise, I B.S.'d my way through that little plot device.  Does it mean anything?  Well…no.  But it sure interested Dumbledore.  And as long as _someone_ affiliated with this story knows what's going on, then that's all that matters, doesn't it?  Uh…yes.

Wow, that was brief and potentially yet incredibly non-informative.  Anyhoo, until the next chapter, feast your eyes on the ever-elongating list of "The **Bold** and the Beautiful!"

**Rolllllll Calllllll****:**** Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! The Female Vampire Lestat! Tarawen! Iris! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer! Breea! Lassy D! Kim! Urania! Quoth the Raven! Melanie! Katma! Mel! Stonehenge! Agent 99! SiriusBPadfoot! Oceansun! Joey! AANNNDDD Psychochick!  Yay!!  You are the Squirrel Nut Zippers (they're really candies, I swear it!) which feed the monster of creativity within my soul! ~8]**


	22. Round and 'Round We Go

Howdy, howdy.  Yes, yes, I've been a bad fanfic authoress.  ::Displays fingers outstretched on table and hands each of you a ruler::  Alright, commence with the knuckle rapping…oh, wait, that'll hurt.  Besides, I'm quite certain _none_ of you are nuns, and we _aren't_ in a Catholic School.  How about for my punishment I give you the next chapter of the story?  ::Crowd murmurs in thought::  Hmm?  How does that sound?  ::Waves story tantalizingly before the drooling crowd::  That's what I thought.  Alright, then, let's get on with the punishment…oh, woe is me snicker  ~8]   

_____________________

Disclaimers:  Twenty-two chapters and you _still_ haven't figured it out?  Sigh  See Chapter, um…Three.  Or Five.  Thirteen's good, even.  Just, please, for the love of all that is Good and Happy in this world, _DON'T PICK AN EVEN NUMBERED CHAPTER!!!_  They're conspiring against me, I tell you, _CONSPIRING!!!  _::Smiles idiotically as 'No-Craze' medicine works its way through my bloodstream::  Good-night, ev-er-y-body.  Enjoy the story!  ::Thumps to the floor::

**Chapter 22:  'Round and 'Round We Go**

Stirring from his slumber, Draco shifted around in the bed he lay in for but a few seconds before realizing that he wasn't lying atop the mattress of his four-poster in the Slytherin dormitories, but that of the Infirmary.

It was the first time he had been truly awake since his arrival.  He briefly remembered a few fleeting moments of consciousness that had grabbed him after he'd been awakened by the medi-witch on countless occasions, for the purpose of downing one pungent potion or another.  Now he lay on his back, head turning from one side to the other in an effort to find the most comfortable position.  Try as he might, it just wasn't going to happen.  He sighed, blinking his eyes clear as he studied the tray of bloodied gauzes and the remains of mortared herbs that rested at his bedside.

He vaguely recalled being brought there, and for some disturbing reason his memories included not one, but three Weasels and a Mudblood.  Draco shuddered at the thought and closed his eyes for a brief second, before hearing footsteps approach him from behind.  He opened his eyes immediately, lolling his head to the other side to face the medi-witch.

"Madame Pomfrey!  Do you know how I got he--"  

Draco froze in mid-sentence, as he turned not to meet the eyes of the nurse, but the last person he thought would be visiting him.

Harry-_fucking_-Potter.

Harry stood motionless by Draco's bedside, not a crease of concern or flicker of emotion gracing his features as he stared at the dumbfounded Slytherin.  Draco, on the other hand, took no time whatsoever in discerning the Gryffindor's expression as he leapt at him, his face twisted in bitter hatred as he shrieked, _"YOU!!"_

The Gryffindor before him took a half-step back, rather nonchalant as the raging Malfoy became hopelessly entangled in his sheets and tumbled gracelessly to the floor.  This did not faze Draco in the least, however.****

"How _dare_ you, you _filthy bastard?!_  How _dare_ you leave me for _dead_, and then come back to see that the job's been _finished?!_  I'm going to _fucking kill you!_" Draco screamed with such intensity that he swore his already raw throat was bleeding by the time he was through.  Chest heaving raggedly against the icy coldness of the floor, he watched curiously as Harry knelt down to him, offering his hand.

Draco smacked it away awkwardly, his face scrunching in hatred and confusion.  "What the _hell_ is your problem, Potter?  _Say_ something, you bloody git!"  When Harry didn't speak so much as twitch a muscle, Draco screamed with a renewed fury.

_"SAY SOMETHING!!"_

At this Harry narrowed his eyes, flashing a disturbingly calm smile before he quite suddenly snaked his previously proffered hand around Draco's neck in an agonizing grip.  Draco gasped loudly, not so much at the pain but the piercing coldness of a hand even more frigid than his own.  He choked on obscenities as Harry crushed harder, his face quite motionless all the while.  In the last few seconds before slipping back into unconsciousness, Draco swore that Harry's eyes had taken on an unpleasant shade of red as they flashed briefly, conveying quite clearly a sense of vile hatred as the platinum-blonde wizard had never before seen in the eyes of The Boy Who Lived.

It wasn't long before Draco saw the same red marring the edges of his vision as all faded to black.****

*  *  *  *  *  *

Standing before a mirror, a lone figure cloaked in once-familiar black robes studied its reflection before the long, rectangular glass panel, one thoroughly covered with the light dusting of years past.  Eyes searching themselves in the reflective pane, the thoughts of the individual drifted to a conclusion garnered from years of being in his position:  the events of what happened from one moment to the next were about as predictable as the mood of one suffering from manic-depression.

Shaken from its thoughts by the softly repeated _clicks_ of a door first opening and then shutting, the figure bristled as another slid up beside him, the reflections in the mirror now identical.

"Nervous, are we?" the intruding presence asked.

"What do you think?" came the response, punctuated with an irritated sigh and not without the slightest hint of sarcasm.  

"I think you bloody wellshould be." 

The robed figure held his tongue and instead slipped the once-revered and now detested mask over his face, turning from the mirror in a whirl before covering the whole of his head with a cloak hood. 

"Good luck, handsome."

Any response was lost to the sound of a crackling fire fully roaring to life as the black-swathed figure was engulfed in an vibrant eruption of green flame, now at the mercy of the floo-powdered hearth blaze. 

Alone, the remaining individual stood beside the brilliant flames, stoking its embers with the delicately wrought-iron poker before they could die down.  What need the fool had for pokers was anybody's guess, when a task as simple as bringing a hearth fire to its fullest could as easily be done with magic.  A smile slowly graced his lips at his observation.  He supposed that's what interested him the most about mankind, wizard and muggle alike:  although creatures of habit, it was fascinating to discover what each did during his or her brief moments of unpredictability, whether it was invest in a useless metal rod or return to something so easily at a moment's notice when in all times before such an action would have only been performed in the face of immediate death. 

Placing the poker aside, the lone body sat in a rather austere chair opposite where the once tumultuous blaze had faltered only moments before, curious as to just what would return from the now somber hearth in countless moments to come.

_Quite curious indeed_…    

*  *  *  *  *  *

Breathing heavily as they dashed around a corner and entered into the approximately fiftieth hallway that looked the same as the last, both Ron and Hermione continued to doggedly follow the trail forged by Harry's double as it frantically wove itself through the labyrinth-like corridors of Hogwarts.  On several occasions had the otherworldly being simply blinked out of existence, or at least it had appeared as such on the Map, but each and every time Harry's friends had managed to keep its trail.

Their pursuit had nearly been victorious when, on the Map, they had spotted the Doppleganger within the Infirmary, but had no time to question its motives for being there before it once again turned heel and ran.  Now, over an hour later and quite exhausted, the persistent Gryffindors had managed to watch unnoticed from around the nearest corner as Harry's Other finally stopped to rest in one of the narrower halls nearest the Hufflepuff dormitories.

Flattening their bodies against the wall nearest them, Hermione turned to Ron with an expression akin to amusement.  _It thinks it's lost us_, she mouthed, afraid that the slightest noise would send the Other fleeing once more.  Ron nodded, then tapped at his head.  _I've got an idea_, he mouthed in return, and moved to stand on the other side of Hermione, nearest the corner.  Close behind, Hermione looked over Ron's shoulder as he cautiously risked a glance around the corner before snapping his head back, nearly whacking her in the face as he did so.  The young witch withheld a cry of surprise, instead biting onto her lip and taking a quick step back from her friend.  

Ron turned around, his eyes wide with excitement.  _It's got its back turned to us,_ he relayed to her, before retrieving his wand and taking a deep breath.  Turning around and stepping to the side, Ron was now in full view of the Doppleganger, no longer safely behind the wall that he and Hermione had shared.  Hermione did the same, taking stance not far behind him, quite surprised that the Doppleganger wasn't alerted to the sound of their madly thudding heart beats.  

For Ron, the situation at hand arose within him the same jumble of emotions he felt while confronting a spider, of all things:  anger, fear, and oddly enough, exhilaration.  The thrill of being able to quash the spider, or in this instance, the malevolent doppleganger before him, conflicted with the fear of their close proximity.  Although he was far enough away to escape without being seen, the ginger-haired wizard was still within striking distance should his adversary choose to attack ever-so-suddenly.  While he often thought of himself as the spider's prey, however, well aware of its movements yet ignorant of its thoughts, he was now in the position of the hunter, able to watch the actions of Harry's doppleganger without it knowing full well of his.  Thus, as would any resolute predator, he determined it was then that he should strike.

Wand leveled with a sweaty and slightly shaky hand, the back of Harry's Other still facing them, Ron let fly a furious, _"STUPEFY!"_  

The Doppleganger whirled about at the sudden cry, and in a split instant had raised its wand defensively, deflecting the hexing beam of light from itself.  Hermione gasped as the green light suddenly reversed its trajectory, and was heading back in their direction.  She had only time to yell, "Ron, _down!_" before throwing herself atop the back of her friend, shoving them both to the floor.  Turning her head slightly upwards, she saw the curse bounce against a few walls before imploding in a flash of similarly colored light.

As Ron grunted beneath her, Hermione quickly pushed herself off of the floor, then knelt as she helped pull Ron into a standing position.  "Sorry about that," she apologized, "but it could have hit either one of us, and I surely wasn't expecting _that_ to happen.  I mean, I wasn't aware that a spell could be deflected by simply blocking it with the _wand_ itself."  Stretching his back out, Ron nodded in agreement.  "You're right about that.  No complaining on my part about saving my neck, though, only that the git's hauled himself off again," he sighed, turning to the now empty hallway, "and these are the Hufflepuff's corridors.  It could be _anywhere_." 

Hermione agreed with her friend.  "My sentiments exactly.  These are unknown corridors to us, and running about without a clue as to where we're going, Marauder's Map or no, isn't going to get us anything but lost."  Busy straightening out her robes, Hermione hardly noticed as Ron fell silent, looking up only as he placed a tentative hand on her shoulder.  His head down, Hermione followed his line of sight until it came to rest on something slowly rolling towards them on the floor.  Upon closer inspection the strange object appeared to be nothing more than a silver orb small enough to fit into one's closed hand.   

When Ron failed to make a move towards it, Hermione instead stooped to pick up the small, metallic ball as it rolled to a stop at her feet.  Palming the smooth orb, she turned to her friend.

"Harry's doppleganger must have dropped it accidentally before running off," she guessed, amazed at the coldness of the sphere.  

"But, what _is_ that thing?" Ron asked quizzically, apprehensive to do more than look at it curiously from afar, no matter how harmless it looked in appearance.  

Shaking her head, Hermione rolled the ball around with her fingers, searching for some way to open or access it.  "I haven't a clue, Ron.  What I _do_ know is that we've got to get this to Dumbledore, right away."

It came as much a surprise to Hermione when she suddenly found herself looking up at a rather startled and quite confused Albus Dumbledore as he sat behind his desk, the curious metallic ball still held securely within her grasp.

**_______________________________**

Oooh…_in_teresting, neh?

A word or two on that 'spider' bit:  Was it a character study or some such insightful thingie on the deep-seated fears of our favorite red-headed Weasley who is of Harry's age (so as to distinguish him from the other favorite red-headed Weasleys who are not of Harry's age)? 

Sure, if you want it to be.

Was it inspired by the very recent battles that yours truly has been unwilling party to against the evil spiders (hence referred to as "*%$@# Spawns of Satan") which dwell within the garage opposite my door who feel the need to seek out the light of my room at all hours of the night, then slide, nay, _creep_, _crawl_, and _skitter_ under my door when I am caught unawares whenever it rains outside or the air chills even the slightest bit, only to be squashed beyond recognition and torn asunder into itty bitty little spider parts upon my noticing them, as they run quite frantically away from my $34.87 investment of "Endust" or "Dust Off" or whatever brand of compressed, freezing air in a can I picked up at Wal-Mart the other day and my steel-toed Stanley work boots, which are immediately strapped to my feet upon seeing said *%$@# Spawn(s) of Satan come a-crawlin' under my door frame?

_Yes_.  (Okay, I actually wrote this before seeing the movie, which I thought was bloody well done.  My favorite part ::SPOILER ALERT!:: was when Harry and Ron started whacking Aragog's 'children.'  Yeah.  That was cool.) 

Just thought I'd let y'all know, in case there was ever a question concerning the matter.  And yes, although I do adhere to some written tenet that I should respect all living creatures and not stomp their brains out with steel-toed boots thus ending their life forever, you must understand one thing, dear reader:  those mothers are _HUGE._

Now, onto the List!

**Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Vampyra de Lioncourt! Tarawen! Iris! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer! Breea! Lassy D! Kim! Urania! Quoth the Raven! Melanie! Katma! Mel! Stonehenge! Agent 99! SiriusBPadfoot! Oceansun! Joey! Psychochick! AANNNDDD Lisa! Yay!!**


	23. Anticipation

More Reviews!  Thou hast _not_ forsaken me!  Verily, yay!  And if the page appears to all be comments from where you're sitting, then fear not, it's down there…somewhere.  And sorry for the length, ye lovers of short chapters.  Bye, now!  ~8]  

**Iris:  **Thanks, Iris!  I'm glad you've stuck around for this long!  Hell, I'm surprised _I've_ stuck around for this long, though I never had any plans to leave the story hanging, or anything.  And yes, Nagini is surprisingly lucid…and quite lurid, too, for a snake.  But, one must remember:  while regular snakes are usually pretty quiet about things, slithering along here and there in search of whatever it is snakes like to look at on a daily basis (a reptile-ologist I'm obviously not, if such a profession exists), Nagini is an _evil_ snake, and one can never truly guess the ill-natured intentions of an _evil_ snake…I'm not helping explain myself, am I?  : \  That seems to happen a lot, 'round here…anyhoo, thanks for the comments, and hope you won't be disappointed with the few (gasp!) remaining chapters to come!    

**Allocin:**  Glad you enjoyed that spider bit…come to think of it, that's what I enjoy about spiders, too--their _bits_ and _pieces_ (so far the count is Danielle: 24, Spider: 1/2…heh.  Figure _that_ one out.)  And where have I been?  Well, usually stuck in a round hole or square hole in the middle of Forestville, Nowhere, VA. but I've some downtime from work, which may mean I might be able to GASP! finish the story…YAY!!!  And yes, the Doppleganger's eyes flashed because not only of his connection to Voldemort, but evil things, in general, have red eyes…my theory of 'evilness' is confirmed quite clearly in the movie itself.  Mrs. Norris?  That's right--red eyes.  ::Bows to thundering applause::  Thank you, thank you… ;]

**Lisa:**  Hmm…interesting point….no other Parselmouths, eh?  Might I call upon the Fanfic Author Omnipotence Act of 1993?  You know, the one that goes, "Any glaring errors and mistakes heretofore (or something snazzy like that) unseen and un-noted by said Fanfic Author/ess are to be shoved under the rug and forgotten like so many dust bunnies"?  What?  That doesn't exist?  Oh…hmm…::laughs nervously for second chapter in a row::  Heh.  Heh.  Well, then, I suppose you are indeed correct about that.  Seeing as it's a bit too late for me to go about fixing that last chapter (well, now second to last chapter) without being noticed, I'll make up something on the spot:  Um, Voldemort decided it was a good idea that at least a few Death Eaters learned a wee bit o' the Parseltongue (I'll treat it in this instance as a sort of 'foreign language'), because, ah, with snakes being about as trustworthy as a snake can get, our one and only Dark Lord figured that maybe, just maybe, Nagini might try and cross him one day, because, well…he's the overtly paranoid Dark Lord-type individual.  Hope that helps.  If not, note point made near end of next comment.  Heh….heh… (:]

**me:  **I haven't come across any definition of a Doppleganger (which I've found is also spelled 'Dopp_el_ganger') as being anything but a "Double Walker," or something which takes on the full characterization of another.  It is sort of a 'shadow,' if you want to think of this particular sort of shadow as having fleshed-out facial features and the like, but, hey, I could be wrong.  It's happened before, and I'll be damned if it won't happen again (most likely in the very, very near future, with the way my luck's going…)!  ~8]  

**Stonehenge:  **Made your day, eh?  Well, at least you didn't end that comment with '…punk,' like some gravelly-voiced Western-type Hollywood actor…who once appeared in a movie called "Unforgiven"…which starred Richard Harris…sniff…gonna go cry now…thanks for the encouraging comment, anyway…sniff…  :]

**Psychochick:**  Drive you crazy with the story?  Nah.  If I _really_ wanted to drive you crazy, I'll pull one of those "Wanna know what drives a fanfic reader crazy?  Click **_HERE_ **to find out," bits.  So, for further elaboration on this, click **HERE **riiiiight…NOW!  (Heh.)  

**Megz:**  So very very glad you're enjoying the story, which will be updated just as soon as I shut up…riiiiight….Now!

**_______________**

Disclaimer:  Oh, for the love of--Just see Chapter Previous, alrighty?

**Chapter 23:  Antici….._pation_**  (Sorry about the unwarranted Rocky Horror reference...it was _bound_ to pop up sometime)     

_"Hermione!"_

For the second time that week did Ron Weasley watch in horror as yet another one of his friends vanished seemingly into the air before him.  His frightened scream was left to reverberate against the surrounding walls for several short moments, until the echo finally died against the cold stone.  Although he clung to the hope that Hermione had simply been transported into the next corridor over, he wasn't in the least bit surprised when the young witch failed to return his cry. 

Fighting to restrain the panic rising within, Ron brought up the slack in his jaw so that it would close properly and allow him to force a large gulp down his throat.  He cursed himself aloud with words that would surprise even Fred or George for not kicking the enigmatic orb away from Hermione's reach, or at least thinking to levitate it to Dumbledore's office.  Tearing his eyes from the now empty space before him and taking a deep breath to calm himself, the young wizard stuck a fumbling hand into the outer pocket of his robe and withdrew the Marauder's Map.  It wasn't until he had his hand upon the well-worn parchment did a particularly alarming thought occur to Ron:  _She might not even **be** in Hogwarts…_  

He hurriedly unrolled the magicked plan of the school and scanned it frantically for Hermione's name, ignoring the whereabouts of Harry's Other for the moment.  It wasn't long before he gasped loudly, clutching a hand to his chest in relief.

"Bloody Hell…"

He had found Hermione, her animated speck juxtaposed with that of the Headmaster's inside his office.

_Just where she **said** she was going…_

His legs having been given plenty of time to rest themselves, Ron stuffed the map back into his pocket and sprinted off yet again in the general direction of Dumbledore's chambers.  A sensation of frenetic energy quickly filled the young Gryffindor, and with lungs and legs pumping at a speed as yet unmatched did Ron race through the halls against an unseen clock, eager to find his friend lest she disappear yet again.

*  *  *  *  *  *

Eyes quite round in astonishment at her sudden change of venue, Hermione looked slowly from the metallic orb still clasped in her hand to the equally startled Headmaster sitting behind the mahogany desk before her.  Taking in her surroundings, she realized she had somehow been transported to that very place on her mind only moments ago, quite misplaced from the darkened corridor within the Hufflepuff wing of Hogwarts she had occupied a split second before…with Ron.

"Might I be of some…_assistance_, Ms. Granger?"

Looking up at her Headmaster, Hermione saw in his countenance that he was as perplexed as she was concerning her unconventional arrival.

"Professor Dumbledore…I-I should certainly hope so…"  At a loss for any more words, she hesitantly stepped forward and placed the sphere atop Dumbledore's desk with great care, lest it roll off the edge of the great desktop and crack itself in two.  Dumbledore watched curiously as his student moved her hand away to reveal what had been concealed within.  Although it appeared as nothing more than an ordinary silver ball, the seemingly ageless Headmaster was well aware of its design.

"Where…exactly did you get this, Ms. Granger?" Dumbledore asked in a tone which quite belied the alarm apparent in his eyes.

Hermione sighed, the memories of the night's events swirling about in a rush inside her head.  "After Ron and I saw that Draco made it safely to the Infirmary after we rescued him," she began, "we happened to catch sight of Harry's na--"

She paused awkwardly, catching herself before she could finish '_name on the Map_.'  As Dumbledore wasn't aware of how they had rescued Draco with help from the Marauder's Map (_Or **does** he know?_ she allowed herself to question), now wouldn't be a particularly good time to begin explaining the concept of it to the Headmaster, for Hermione feared that she would only end up digging herself a grave deeper than she was able to get out of.  Resuming the conversation as if she'd simply slipped up in her speech, Hermione continued indifferently, as if nothing had occurred.  Whether it had escaped the Headmaster's attention was another matter altogether, however.

"Well, that is we caught a glimpse of what we _thought_ was Harry in one of the corridors, but we knew that it _couldn't_ be him…only his doppleganger.  Regardless, we pursued it for a while, and we'd _nearly_ gotten the best of it until it managed to block Ron's stupification spell with its wand, and the next thing we knew, it was gone again.  Only, it left _that_ behind," she finished, jabbing a finger at the metallic sphere.  "I guess the doppleganger was so startled that it dropped whatever _that_ is."

Dumbledore remained silent in thought for what seemed to Hermione several uneasy moments before he finally breathed a long and tired sigh.

"That was very brave of you Gryffindors, Hermione," he finally remarked, but before the heated blush could fully rise against the young witch's cheeks did he add, "Very brave, but also very dangerous." 

Hermione's face fell a few inches at the reprimand, and focusing on the small orb did she stumble out an apology.  "I-I'm--_We_ are sorry, Professor Dumbledore, it's just that--"  Before she could continue, she was surprised at hearing an amused chuckle come from the Headmaster.

"It's quite alright, Ms. Granger.  We are all forced to do things most dangerous and unbecoming of our nature when the situation calls for such actions to be taken," he paused, subconsciously glancing at his now dormant fireplace, "and this whole…_affair_ has been one such long and trying situation, indeed."  As he finished talking, Dumbledore rose from his chair and walked to where Hermione stood, placing one comforting hand upon her shoulder and holding the orb with the other.  

"In acquiring _this_, Hermione," he began, hefting the weight of the ball in his hand for demonstration, "have you taken from that _vile_ abomination its primary means of transport, as I don't believe that it has the ability to fully apparate itself back to Voldemort even if it _were_ knowledgeable enough to try once it had left school grounds.  Harry's doppleganger is now trapped within Hogwarts, Ms. Granger, and here it will stay until taken care of properly."  

Hermione nodded her head in understanding, although a bit unsure as what was meant by, _'taken care of properly_._'_  "The orb is some sort of thought-controlled Portkey, isn't it?  Although I _told_ Ron we should bring it to you as soon as possible, I didn't really _think_ it aloud in my head until after, right before I found myself here."

"Astute as always, Ms. Granger," he commended, setting the Portkey down.  Dumbledore then placed his free hand atop Hermione's other shoulder before speaking again.  "Hermione…I must now ask you this, and I want you to think before you answer," he began cautiously, watching the slightly puzzled look cross his student's face.

"Y-Yes?"

The Headmaster sighed, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.  "Wherever did you leave poor Mr. Weasley?"  

_Ron!_  She had nearly forgotten about him since her arrival.  _He must be worried sick…unless he thought to read the map properly…_As if her unvoiced question had been answered, a frantic knocking suddenly fell loudly upon the door, startling both professor and student.

Excusing himself from Hermione, Dumbledore quickly crossed the room in an effort to still the bothersome rapping upon the doorway.  Upon turning the knob was he greeted with a familiar yet uncharacteristically pained face betwixt the small crack in the door.  "To speak of little devils," he chuckled, much to Ron's confusion.

"Professor Dumbledore!  Hermione…is she here?  I-I think I've…lost her…"

"And now she's been found," Dumbledore responded with a smile, stepping aside to reveal the female Gryffindor.

Relief spread over Ron's elated features, and before he could make meaningful words come from his mouth did he rush forward and tightly hug his friend in view of the amused Headmaster.  "Hermione…!  I didn't know what happened to you…I thought…" Ron released his hold on Hermione as he took a step back, his words faltering.  He didn't realize until now how truly scared he had been.  "…I thought you might have ended up with…with Harry.  Not that I particularly like him being alone, or anything, but still…"

Hermione gave him a genuine smile, surprised at her friend's surge of emotion.  "For a moment there, Ron, I thought I was going to see Harry sooner than we had planned on, too.  But," she paused, indicating with a pointing finger the orb lying still atop the desk, "it turns out that it's nothing more than a thought-controlled Portkey.  I was thinking of coming here, and then I did."

Furrowing his eyebrows in concentration, Ron responded with a nod.  "So that's how that bloody git--sorry, Professor--kept losing us so many times.  Not because it was running faster than we were, but because it had a Portkey!  That's why it kept disappearing from the ma--"  A death glare blind to the eye of Dumbledore was quickly shot from Hermione to Ron, who couldn't at first understand his friend's disapproving stare.  _What's her probl--ohhh…_  Suddenly Ron understood, quickly backtracking in order to erase any indication of the word _'map'_ from his previous sentence.

"--maa--main hall?  The main hall!  Everytime we corned it in a main hallway, it would…disappear," he finished lamely, ignoring the pained wince that crossed Hermione's features.  A crooked eyebrow from Dumbledore was his only response before the Headmaster stepped forward to place a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders.

"In light of what you've both just told me, along with the fact that Harry's doppleganger is now loose about the hallways, I believe the best and safest place for you at the moment is in the safety of numbers--namely those in the Gryffindor dormitories."  A look of silent defeat crossed both of their haggard faces, but Dumbledore quickly continued before either could protest.  "It's best for both of you that you each get some rest--"

"But, professor," Ron interrupted hesitantly, "have you heard _anything_ about Harry?  I mean, you said before that you had someone helping him…?" he trailed off, too worried and exhausted to form valid or complete sentences at that point.

Dumbledore sighed, gently goading the two Gryffindors towards the door.  "Harry is being taken care of as we speak by someone who has agreed to help us only in secrecy.  Although I haven't heard anything back as of yet, I should very shortly.  As soon as any word comes through, you two will be the very first to know."  Softening his tone, he spoke quietly to them.  "We're all hoping and praying for Harry's safe return, and I truly regret that the two of you have thus far carried the brunt of our grief.  For that I am greatly sorry, but you must also keep this in your thoughts:  Like the both of you, Harry is also a Gryffindor, and rightly so.  The bravery that the three of you have exhibited since your arrival is nearly unmatched in the whole of Hogwart's history.  I have no doubt in my mind that Harry is trying is best to remain strong as testament to the Gryffindor legacy in the company of Slytherins, and until we hear anything further, we have no choice but to keep that vision alive in _here_," he explained, tapping a finger lightly against his head, "but also in _here_," he finished, placing a hand atop his heart.

Now on the opposite side of the Headmaster's door, both Ron and Hermione thanked the kindly old professor before bidding him a good night.  Waiting until they were out of earshot, Hermione asked Ron softly, "You aren't actually planning on going to _bed_, are you?"

His eyes suddenly alight with a fiery spark of excitement, Ron responded softly yet resolutely, "Not on your life."  He then curled his left hand around the map and latched a firm grasp on his wand with his other as Hermione did the same with hers.  

"Let's go find this bastard, shall we?" Ron asked, looking askance at his friend.

With her face set in determination, Hermione steeled her courage and rising anxiety against what lay ahead.  As long as the Doppleganger continued to exist would it prove to be a constant and ominously unpredictable threat against the whole of the school, and if it should escape…Whatever it was, Hermione need only remind herself of two things:  "It was created by, and is inherently a part of _Voldemort_, a former Slytherin.  And Gryffindors have always, _always_ come out on top against the _Slytherins_.  "

Finally, with a tight nod and wicked smile did she answer, "Let's."

*  *  *  *  *  *

_Two thousand four hundred and nine…_

_Two thousand four hundred and ten…_

_Two thousand four hund--_

Harry was interrupted in his counting of zooming snitches when he heard the door of his cell being unlocked from the outside. His heart began to beat erratically in trepidation as it swung open, his body trembling anew. He vaguely recognized the dark form of a Death Eater approaching him.

_Not again…not yet…_

Harry burrowed his head into his knees, squeezing his arms even more tightly around his body in a futile effort to protect himself.  He jumped when the door slammed shut again, surprised to hear himself crying softly before Voldemort's servant had even laid a finger on him. 

"…no more…_please_…it still hurts…"

The Death Eater dropped to one knee beside him, pulling his hood back and removing his mask. Harry slowly looked up, squinting in the dim light at the half-kneeling form. He'd never seen the face of a Death Eater without his mask before, even though their identities were, for the most part, common knowledge, and was quite surprised when he recognized this one.

"You're…Draco's father, aren't you?" Harry asked in a cracked voice upon noting the familiar visage. Lucius Malfoy moved a hand out towards Harry, who flinched instinctively. Lucius sighed heavily, pulling his hand back. 

"Fortunately, can't say that I am." 

Harry opened his eyes wide at the familiar voice. "Professor Snape?" 

"In the flesh," the older man responded in a somewhat embittered tone. "Well, flesh masked with glamoury, to be exact."

His student then responded by narrowing his eyes quizzically. "Why on earth do look like Lucius Malfoy?" 

Severus sighed, making it clear that he didn't wish to tell the story in its entirety at that very moment.  "Since your classmates were successful in retrieving his son from the bowels of Hogwarts, he's decided to help us in bringing you back, however reluctantly.  He wasn't too, shall we say, _appreciative_ of young Mr. Malfoy's emaciated condition upon his rescue--"

"_Draco?_  Is he going to be alright?" Harry interrupted. 

"He was resting just now in the Infirmary, last I checked, but yes, he'll be fine as far as you're concerned.  As I was saying, Lucius in part blames Voldemort for his son's disappearance, since it was _his_ creation that…'hid' him in the first place--"

"His _creation_?  My doppleganger's responsible for this?  But why--?"  

"Have an _iota_ of patience, will you, Mr. Potter?" Snape grumbled irritably before continuing.  "Apparently, from what we can discern, Peter Pettigrew's long-standing hatred of Lucius, for one reason or another, was one of the many traits your double acquired in its creation. This…_dislike_ manifested itself more so than some of the others, causing your doppleganger to act out its aggression towards the next closest thing--his _son_."

The Gryffindor nodded haltingly in partial understanding, and once again turned his questioning gaze on the other man.  "Why are _you_ here, then, and not him?"  In truth, although he'd never admit it to anyone, Harry was more than happy that the Potions Master had come instead of Lucius or _any_ Malfoy, for that matter.  He had never trusted the other man, even _before_ he knew of his inclusion within Voldemort's ranks, and doubted he would trust him even now.

Snape breathed a low sigh as he answered.  "I'm here because he refused to help us any more than by supplying us with information.  Besides, even though it's been awhile, I know these tunnels better than he does, even if that bloody prat won't admit it…"  The professor trailed off, his thoughts elsewhere momentarily.

Harry decided he'd rather not know where 'here' was, as he'd visited it and its many incarnations several times before, though only in his nightmares.  He instead asked another question of his professor.  "Won't Lucius be…_punished_ for helping you?" Harry voiced quietly.

"Imaginably so, yes."

The Gryffindor nodded slowly, gulping softly at the realization that his classmate might soon be without a father because of him.  Not that Lucius didn't deserve what was going to come to him eventually, but still, the thought remained.

"Right then," Severus sighed, snapping Harry from his reverie, "let's have a look at you."

Snape pulled out his wand to light it, but first muttered a few unfamiliar words under his breath as he turned the wand on himself.  Harry could vaguely see the other wizard's transformation back to his normal guise, as the blonde hair which had been highlighted by a wayward sliver of light suddenly turned to black.

"It's like wearing a _snake's_ skin," he explained offhandedly before turning the wand on Harry.  With a quiet declaration of _'Lumos'_ the wand was lit, setting Harry's ashen face aglow. Nothing could have prepared the Potions Master for the condition his student was in.

His face twisted itself into a mask of horror as he studied Harry's.  Violently-wrought bruises and lacerations formed hideous landmarks on the young man's face, and it looked as if his nose had been broken and then reset on at least one occasion.  The darkened hollows encircling his bloodshot and clouded emerald eyes appeared no less than black, sunken pits beneath his student's averted gaze.  Elsewhere it looked as if he had been beaten within an inch of his life, and Severus dare not think what damage lay beneath the young boy's shirt.

The sight that alarmed him most, however, was the slow but steady trickle of blood that continued to leak from Harry's scar, which appeared to have been slit open from end to end with the finest and sharpest of blades some time ago.  "Great Morgana, what has that bastard done to you?" he gasped softly.

"That bad?" Harry finally asked in a voice that the Potions Master thought much too forlorn and weary to belong to a Gryffindor.

"Only looks like you've been beaten with a bloody bludger's _bat_." Harry felt his throat tighten at Snape's words, averting his eyes to the floor again. He didn't look up until he felt a finger rest lightly upon his tender scar, meeting the touch with a low hiss of pain.  Severus quickly jerked his hand back.  He wiped away the fresh blood in a smear on his pant leg, then tilted his head down to meet Harry's eyes.  "Harry…what happened to your scar?" Snape asked softly, not bothering to disguise the worry in his voice.

Harry began to shiver uncontrollably as he recalled the most painful of memories thus far. "V-Voldemort pressed his fingers against it, _hard_, un…until it _split_ open and s-started to b-bleed."  He swallowed thickly before continuing. "And then h-he…_kissed it_, to m-make it _feel_ _better_," Harry spat bitterly, the vile touch forever emblazoned in his memory. Snape's face scrunched up in disgust, moving to brush away some damp locks of hair that had fallen into the boy's eyes.  Harry was quiet for several long moments, shaking his head ever so slightly against the realization of it all.  "H-He wouldn't _s-stop_…" Harry turned his tearful gaze to Snape, whose normally contempt-filled eyes now held only sorrow and pity for his student. "I-It…it _hurt_…_s-so much_…" 

Severus moved to pull Harry forward as the latter broke down completely.  He hesitantly rested Harry's head on his shoulder as anguished sobs convulsed his student's battered body, rocking ever so gently as he held him close. The young wizard felt himself being engulfed in the other man's embrace, arms wrapping tightly around him as he shook in uncontrollable grief. Harry had wound the fabric of his Professor's cloak into his unyielding, white-knuckled grasp, never wanting to let go.

"Shhh, now, or they'll hear us." Severus stroked a hand repeatedly through his student's hair, hesitantly at first, but then coming to feel more like a father at that moment than he'd ever care to admit. The comforting action seemed to have the desired effect, for Harry quieted down considerably. The Potion's Master then pulled Harry away after a few moments, gently cupping a bruise-mottled cheek slick with tears in his hand. 

"Harry, I want you to listen to me," he said softly, "we haven't got much time. When I come back--"

Harry's eyes grew wide in panic, a great lump rising in his throat. "Come _back_? You're--you're not going to _leave_ me here, are you? Professor, please, you _can't _leave me here…if I stay here, he'll--he'll _murder_ me, just like he did my _parents_--" Snape used his thumb to brush away the fresh tears from Harry's frightened eyes. "Shhh, Potter, _please_. Calm down, now, we _must_ keep quiet. Harry, I promise, it won't be for long. If Voldemort finds you gone, then he'll know something's awry. We can't just apparate out of here--"

"How did _you_ get here?"

Snape sighed. "Well, I apparated, or more appropriately, I floo-powered myself off school grounds and _then_ apparated, but that's not the point."

Harry bit hard onto his quivering bottom lip, nodding in understanding.  "When…when will you come back?" he asked hesitantly, fearful of the answer.  

"Soon.  I promise you, Harry, I won't let you die here.  Not like this."  

Harry closed his eyes briefly as Severus began to stand up.  Suddenly a thought occurred to him.  "Wait!  My glasses--can you see them around me anywhere?  They were…knocked off my face earlier."

Snape turned to search the other corners of the cell when a glint off to the left caught his eye.  Floating his lit wand over the area, Severus winced upon spotting the two halves of Harry's black frames lying within inches of each other.  He picked them up by their earpieces, careful not to cut himself on the broken glass.  Sighing, his tucked them into his robes.  "If they see you with these back on, then they'll know that someone's been here."  Extinguishing his wand of its light, he then gave it a small wave before the boy's eyes.

_"Reparo oculus."_

A surprised smile graced Harry's features as his vision cleared perfectly without the aide of lenses, his surroundings suddenly coming into focus.  "My eyes!  But how--?"

"Don't get too excited," the Potions Master interrupted, "the effects are only temporary.  They'll serve useful until we can get you back to Hogwarts, where your glasses will be…waiting for you."  Severus spoke those last words with such conviction that for the briefest of moments he felt that with absolute certainty that he could rescue Harry from this utter hell.      

Harry watched as his professor stood up, moving to place the mask back over his face.  "Professor, before you leave," he began hesitantly, "who is the Countess de Bathory?"

His lip curling into a disgusted sneer, Snape shook his head.  "That you _don't_ want to know.  Why do you ask?"

Refusing to meet the older man's eyes, Harry let his forlorn gaze fall to the floor.  "No reason.  Just curious."  Before Severus could ask any further questions, Harry gave a slight nod towards the door.  "You'd better leave, or they'll start wondering why I haven't begun screaming yet."

Snape nodded sadly, then replaced the mask and cloak hood over his head after transforming his features back into those of Lucius Malfoy.  With a last look at his student before he opened the door, he softly commanded, "Stay strong, Potter.  This won't be the last time you'll see me, I promise."  

Harry closed his eyes as the door swung closed once more, the outside lock again being magickally fastened together.  With nothing else to do other than fret worriedly about his fate, the young wizard resumed counting imaginary snitches.

_Two thousand four hundred and eleven._

_Two thousand four hundred and twelve…_

_________________

I think I'll stop it…there.  I'm Evil, I tell you, _EVIL!!!  _::Note, if you will, my flashing red eyes just then and there…::

EVIL!  ::Look quickly now…did you see them that time?  Good.::

Now, onto the ever-expanding and increasingly magical 'List'!

Rolllllll Calllllll: Lady Foxfire! Raven! Allocin! Loopy! Vampyra de Lioncourt! Tarawen! Iris! Zahrah Thomson-Radcliffe! Guess! Beccy! Amerkat! Mouse! Lili! Lady of Arundel! ArchArtist/Writer! Breea! Lassy D! Kim! Urania! Quoth the Raven! Melanie! Katma! Mel! Stonehenge! Agent 99! SiriusBPadfoot! Oceansun! Joey! Psychochick! Lisa! Me! AANNNDDD! Megz! Yay!!


End file.
